THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


MY  FIRST  VOYAGE 


BY 

MAURICE   THOMPSON 


AND    OTHER  STORIES   BY  NOTED   AUTHORS 


itjj  picture* 


BOSTON 

D    LOTHROP    COMPANY 

WASHINGTON    STREET    OPPOSITE    BROM  FIELD 


COPYRIGHT,  1890 

BY 
D   LOTHROP  COMPANY. 


3*3 


MY   FIRST   VOYAGE. 


I. 


WHEN  I  was  a  boy  my  father  had  a  govern 
ment  contract  that  took  him  to  the  little 
town  of  Bay  St.  Louis,  which  is  built  on  the  high 
western  shore  of  a  beautiful  bay  of  the  same  name, 
on  the  gulf  coast  of  Mississippi.  I  was  the  only 
child  my  father  had  and,  my  mother  being  dead, 
I  was  petted  and  spoiled  a  good  deal  by  well- 
meaning  people  wherever  I  went.  At  Bay  St. 
Louis,  where  we  were  living  during  the  two  years 
that  my  father's  contract  lasted,  I  was  allowed  to 
run  free  for  a  great  part  of  the  time.  I  fished  a 
good  deal,  wandered  in  the  grand  forests  of  pine, 
oak  and  magnolia  that  stretched  indefinitely  away 
east  of  the  town,  and,  indeed,  did  just  as  I  pleased. 
My  father  was  a  very  busy,  industrious  man,  grimly 
intent  upon  retrieving  a  lost  fortune,  and  I  think 

7 


8  MY    FIRST    VOYAGE. 

he  never  dreamed  that  I  was  possessed  of  any 
thing  like  an  imagination.  At  all  events  the  only 
books  he  left  in  my  way  were  tables  of  logarithms, 
.sines  and  tangents,  treatises  upon  earthwork,  tim 
ber  structures,  jetties,  breakwaters  and  the  like, 
together  with  two  or  three  volumes  of  chemistry 
and  geology.  So  you  may  imagine  with  what 
ravenous  avidity  I  attacked  Robinson  Crusoe  when 
I  got  the  chance.  A  traveller  left  the  book,  a 
well-worn  paper-covered  copy,  at  our  boarding- 
house  and  thus  it  came  to  my  hands.  I  devoured 
it,  as  a  hungry  animal  devours  food,  in  an  ecstasy 
of  delight. 

No  doubt  Robinson  Crusoe  is  a  very  charming 
book  and  quite  harmless  in  a  general  way,  but  it 
caused  me  the  most  serious  trouble  I  have  ever 
experienced,  so  far  as  personal  suffering  is  con 
cerned. 

I  read  and  re-read  the  story,  until  its  spirit  got 
full  possession  of  me,  and  then  I  began  to  long 
for  an  adventure  of  my  own.  Day  after  day,  when 
my  father  was  absent  in  pursuit  of  his  undertaking, 
I  sat  upon  the  breezy  bluff  and  gazed  out  on  the 


MY    FIRST    VOYAGE.  9 

blue  water  of  the  beautiful  bay,  dreaming  of  some 
day  going  away  in  a  ship  and  getting  wrecked  on 
a  tropical  island  where  I  could  live  an  ideal  Crusoe 
life. 

An  old  negro  man,  with  whom  I  became  well  ac 
quainted,  added  a  great  deal  to  my  foolish  desire 
by  telling  me  romantic  stories  of  pirates  and  smug 
glers  whose  ships,  he  said,  were  all  the  time  hov 
ering  just  beyond  some  little  marsh  islands,  barely 
visible  on  the  southern  horizon  when  the  weather 
was  very  favorable. 

I  grew  so  interested  at  length  that  I  thought  of 
nothing  else  but  the  imaginary  delights  of  a  lonely 
life  on  some  far-away,  undiscovered  shore.  I 
dreamed  of  it  throughout  my  sleep  and  pondered 
over  it  every  hour  of  the  day. 

My  father  was  a  practical,  rather  austere  man 
and  I  did  not  mention  my  fanciful  ambition  to 
him;  but  to  Uncle  Luben,  the  old  negro,  I  told 
everything.  Of  course  the  kind-hearted,  ready- 
tongued  African,  thinking  I  was  merely  giving  vent 
to  a  boyish  imagination,  entered  fully  into  the  spirit 
of  all  my  plans. 


10  MY    FIRST   VOYAGE. 

"  'F  I's  you  I'd  des  rig  up  one  o'  dem  leetle 
boats  down  yer  at  de  landin',  an'  I  des  sail  erway 
some  o'  dese  yer  moon-shiny  nights,  dat  w'at  I'd 
do,"  he  said  in  his  wise,  solemn  way.  "  Kase 
dey's  mo'  oranges,  an'  figs,  an'  grapes,  an'  water- 
mellions,  an'  bananers  on  dem  fur-off  islands  'an 
eber  you  see  in  all  yer  bo'n  days,  chile.  Dey's 
cantaloups  bigger  'n  a  flou'  bar'l  an'  cocoanuts  'at 
you  couldn't  hardly  tote,  an'  den  de  honey,  w'y 
de  honey  it  des  grow  on  de  bushes  down  da'." 

I  don't  know  that  I  believed  all  that  Uncle 
Luben  told  me,  but  there  was  the  blue  bay  spread 
ing  away  to  the  far  horizon  where  La  Fitte  the 
pirate  used  to  sail,  and  just  off  yonder  in  the  south 
east,  was  the  Caribbean  Sea,  where  the  Bucca 
neers  so  long  found  a  safe  home.  I  felt  the  fasci 
nation  of  the  balmy  salt  breezes  and  the  spell  of 
the  semi-tropics  was  upon  me. 

"Uncle  Luben,"  I  said  to  the  old  negro  one 
day,  "I  have  got  my  plans  all  made.  I'm  going 
on  a  voyage  to-night.  You'll  never  see  me  again." 

"Dat's  it,  child,  dat's  des  it!"  he  responded, 
shaking  his  white  woolly  head  approvingly.  «'  Now 


MY   FIRST   VOYAGE.  II 

you's  a  talkin'  sense.  Go  right  'long  an'  see  de  big 
ocean  an'  de  water-mellion  islands  an'  de  cocoanut 
trees  an'  all.  Lawsy  me  ef  I's  young  like  you  I'd 
des  turn  in  an'  go  clean  all  eround  this  worl',  I 
tell  you!" 

Well,  that  night,  sure  enough,  I  departed  on  my 
voyage  of  adventure.  You  need  not  fear  that  I 
am  going  to  tell  you  a  dream.  It  is  a  genuine 
experience  and  it  has  a  good  enough  lesson  in  it, 
I  think.  However,  I  must  hasten  to  add  that  I 
don't  believe  boys  nowadays  ought  to  need  any 
lesson  of  the  sort. 

It  was  a  splendidly  beautiful  moonlight  night  in 
May,  warm,  balmy,  exhilarating.  A  gentle  breeze 
was  blowing  seaward.  The  little  town  of  Bay  St. 
Louis  was  still  and  peaceful  as  it  slept  along  the 
high  tree-shaded  bluff  —  a  town  in  fact  one  house 
deep  and  nine  miles  long. 

Near  midnight  I  crept  out  of  my  bedroom  win 
dow  with  a  little  bundle  under  my  arm.  My  father 
was  soundly  sleeping.  The  whole  world  seemed 
to  be  wrapped  in  a  deep,  solemn  dream. 

I  felt  that  I  was  not  doing  quite  right ;  in  fact  I 


12  MY    FIRST    VOYAGE. 

knew  I  was  doing  wrong,  but  the  sea  was  calling 
me,  the  great,  mysterious,  shining  sea,  and  I  could 
not  resist. 

Down  to  the  landing  I  went  with  my  bundle 
under  my  arm  and  waded  out  to  my  father's  little 
boat,  which  lay  anchored  in  the  shallow  water.  I 
knew  a  little  about  sailing,  just  enough  to  render 
me  confident,  but  not  enough  to  give  me  command 
of  the  boat  in  any,  save  the  most  favorable  weather. 
My  father  would  not  have  permitted  me  to  go  out 
alone  under  any  circumstances. 

Hastily  but  silently  I  pulled  up  the  little  anchor 
and  set  the  sail  as  best  I  could.  The  boat  was  a 
mere  skiff,  but  staunch  and  good,  rigged  with  a 
shoulder-of-mutton  sail,  a  centre-board  and  a  rud 
der.  Fortunately  the  wind  was  not  strong,  and  it 
blew  steadily  southward,  so  that  I  got  the  little 
craft  before  it  and  sailed  away  without  much 
trouble.  Little  I  dreamed  of  the  danger  I  was 
about  to  encounter  as  I  looked  back  and  saw  the 
shining  white  line  of  the  town  slowly  receding  as 
the  wind  bore  me  along.  I  shall  never  forget  how 
won drously  blue  the  sky  was,  and  how  the  stars, 


MY    FIRST    VOYAGE.  13 

despite  the  great  brilliancy  of  the  moon,  flared 
and  flashed,  like  the  flames  of  candles  shaking  in  a 
wind.  A  weatherwise  person  would  have  known 
that  a  storm  was  gathering  not  far  off,  for  there 
was  a  peculiar  dampness  and  freshness  in  the  air, 
and  an  ominous  film  hung  about  the  horizon.  But 
I  sailed  on,  all  unconscious  of  the  indications  and 
wrapped  in  the  fascination  of  my  escapade. 

A  flock  of  pelicans,  their  wings  shining  in  the 
moonlight,  flew  ahead  of  me  for  a  while,  keeping 
just  above  the  little  waves.  They  appeared  to  be 
leading  me  on  toward  a  low  fringe-like  marsh- 
island  just  beginning  to  be  visible  in  the  far 
south. 

Now  the  breeze  stiffened  a  little,  giving  my  boat 
an  impulse  which  caused  white  whisps  of  spray  to 
flash  about  the  gunwales.  A  thrill  seemed  to  run 
over  the  wide  waste  of  water  and  little  white-capped 
waves  leaped  and  murmured  all  around  me.  A 
sudden  sense  of  loneliness  filled  my  mind  and  in 
voluntarily  I  glanced  back.  A  strange  mist  had 
enveloped  the  shore.  A  broad  booming  sound 
arose,  as  if  from  the  depth  of  the  distant  parts  of 


14  MY    FIRST    VOYAGE. 

the  sea.  I  felt  my  heart  sink.  Strangely  enough, 
I  thought  of  the  soft,  sweet  bed  in  the  cosey  room 
and  of  my  father  sleeping  so  soundly  after  his 
day's  work.  Just  then  a  big  bird,  flying  wildly 
before  the  wind,  passed  overhead  with  a  hoarse 
scream ;  then  a  cloud  covered  the  moon. 

I  was  thoroughly  frightened  and  made  a  great 
effort  to  turn  the  boat  about  and  go  back ;  but  the 
breeze  was  now  lifting  the  water  into  foaming  bil 
lows  and  I  saw  how  powerless  I  was. 

When  one's  conscience  is  not  just  right  one  is 
a  coward.  I  lost  my  head  and  went  into  a  state 
of  hysterical  ecstasy,  throwing  my  arms  about  and 
screaming  as  loudly  as  I  could.  It  was  as  if  the 
wind  grew  hysterical  too,  for  now  it  howled  and 
raved  and  leaped  upon  my  boat,  whirling  it  about 
and  driving  it  before  it  like  a  straw  or  a  dry  leaf. 
I  had  to  let  go  the  tiller  and  cling  to  the  gunwales, 
as  the  little  vessel  leaped  and  tumbled  with  the 
ever  increasing  waves.  My  hat  blew  off  and  went 
whirling  away  into  the  boiling,  foaming  water. 
Then  the  storm  struck  in  earnest  and  I  felt  the 
sea  spring  up,  like  a  giant,  to  show  its  real  strength. 


MY    FIRST   VOYAGE.  15 

Something  happened,  I  do  not  know  what,  for  I 
was  buried  in  the  water. 


II. 


I  have  said  that  this  is  no  dream-story,  but  I 
really  felt  as  one  feels  who  opens  his  eyes  after 
the  most  horrible  visions  of  sleep.  I  looked  about, 
as  best  I  could,  and  saw  nothing  but  tall  marsh 
grass  and  weeds.  I  was  lying  almost  face-down 
ward  in  a  slimy  place  where  the  mud  looked  black 
and  nasty.  My  head  roared,  my  limbs  ached,  my 
hair  and  mouth  were  full  of  slime ;  and  at  first  I 
could  not  imagine  what  this  all  meant.  After  many 
trials  I  rolled  myself  over  and  managed  to  get  up 
on  one  elbow  and  gaze  all  around.  Then  I  looked 
at  myself.  My  clothes  were  soaked  with  water 
and  covered  with  mud.  Was  this  a  dream  ?  At 
first  I  was  inclined  to  think  it  was,  but  very  soon 
I  knew  it  was  not,  for  I  began  to  recollect  the  cir 
cumstances  and  incidents  of  my  voyage.  Slowly 
it  dawned  upon  me  that  I  was  indeed  a  lonely 


1 8  MY    FIRST   VOYAGE. 

shipwrecked  boy  on  a  desolate  marsh.  Painfully 
I  dragged  myself  into  a  sitting  posture  only  to  find 
that  my  head  was  so  dizzy  and  sore  that  I  could 
scarcely  hold  it  up. 

The  sun  was  about  an  hour  high  in  what  I 
thought  was  the  east,  and  I  judged  that  it  was 
early  morning,  which  proved  to  be  so.  I  dragged 
myself  out  of  the  muddy  place  and  lay  down  on 
the  rushes  and  weeds.  The  sky  was  clear  now, 
the  wind,  very  gently  blowing  out  of  the  southeast, 
was  as  sweet  as  May  and  the  sea  could  make  it, 
and  the  sunshine  was  very  soothing  to  my  chilled 
and  bruised  body  and  limbs.  I  lay  there  on  my 
back  and.  gazed  up  into  the  blue  heaven  thinking 
over  my  predicament  with  a  forlorn  consciousness 
of  how  wicked  I  had  been. 

At  length  I  thought  of  trying  to  look  about  for 
my  boat.  Possibly  it  had  been  cast  up  on  the 
shore  somewhere  ;  and  if  I  could  find  it  I  might 
make  my  way  back  to  my  home.  I  was  on  the 
point  of  making  an  effort  to  get  upon  my  feet  when 
I  heard  a  voice,  heavy  and  peremptory  in  its  tone, 
say: 


MY    FIRST   VOYAGE.  19 

"  Set  the  box  down  here,  Jim,  it  will  be  safe 
enough  for  the  present,  and  we  will  go  look  for 
the  most  favorable  point  on  this  island.  I  think 
it'll  suit  our  purpose." 

"  All  right,  sir,"  said  another  voice. 

"  Well,  come  on  now,"  added  the  first,  "  we've 
no  time  to  lose." 

The  first  thought  that  sprang  into  my  mind  was 
that  these  men  were  smugglers.  I  lifted  my  head 
cautiously  and  peeped  over  the  grass.  They  had 
deposited  a  small  red  box  on  the  ground  and  were 
now  walking  away  across  the  island.  I  saw  that 
the  box  had  bright  bands  of  brass  around  it. 
Uncle  Luben  had  told  me  a  great  deal  about 
strong  boxes  of  gold  and  other  treasure  often 
buried  by  these  lawless  men.  . 

I  was  very  much  frightened  now  when  I  thought 
of  the  probability  that  these  men  would  discover 
me,  and  kill  me,  perhaps,  for  fear  that  I  might 
disclose  some  of  their  secrets. 

When  the  sound  of  their  voices  had  died  away 
in  the  distance  as  they  walked  off,  I  peeped  over 
the  top  of  the  grass  again  and  took  a  good  view 


20  MY    FIRST    VOYAGE. 

of  the  surroundings.  At  a  little  distance  from  the 
box  a  boat,  about  the  size  of  the  one  I  had  got 
wrecked  in,  but  much  more  beautiful,  was  moored 
to  the  shore,  its  sail  flapping  lazily. 

As  I  sat  there  looking  first  at  the  box  and  then 
at  the  boat  and  dreading  the  return  of  the  men, 
a  great  desire  to  get  away  from  the  island  took 
possession  of  me,  and  then,  with  a  jump  of  my 
heart,  I  thought  of  capturing  the  smugglers'  boat 
and  escaping  in  it.  Why  not  ?  There  it  lay  ready 
for  me  ;  and  the  owners  were  out  of  sight.  It  did 
not  take  me  long  to  decide.  Every  moment  was 
precious. 

I  crawled  down  to  the  edge  of  the  water,  fear 
ing  that  if  I  stood  up  the  men  would  see  me,  and 
unmoored  the  boat.  Then  I  chanced  to  have  a 
brilliant  conceit.  Why  not  take  the  box  ?  Oh,  if 
I  could  go  home  with  a  captured  boat  and  a  price 
less  treasure-box ! 

I  re-tied  the  boat  and  crawled  back  to  the  box 
and  dragged  it  down  to  the  water.  It  was  very 
heavy  for  me  to  handle,  but  I  finally  heaved  it 
aboard  and  then  I  managed  to  get  the  little  craft 


MY    FIRST   VOYAGE.  21 

off  before  the  wind.  This  is  all  very  easy  to  tell 
and  may  appear  tame  and  simple,  but  to  me  at  the 
time  it  was  terribly  exciting.  Every  moment  I 
expected  the  men  to  return  and  wreak  their  re 
venge  upon  me  for  my  rash  undertaking.  A  min 
ute  was  like  an  hour.  Then,  too,  I  was  so  weak 
and  sore  that  every  move  I  made  was  torture. 

When  the  box  was  safe  in  the  bottom  of  the 
boat,  and  I  was  sitting,  tiller  in  hand,  with  the  sail 
bulging  gently  and  the  little  vessel  beginning  to 
glide  away  from  the  low,  marshy  shore,  I  felt  so 
glad  and  thankful  that  the  pain  and  hunger  were 
quite  forgotten.  Far  away  northward  I  could  see 
the  dim  line  which  marked  the  bluffs  of  Bay  St. 
Louis.  The  wind  would  blow  me  straight  to  my 
home!  I  turned  and  looked  back,  and  as  I 
did  so  a  gruff  voice  came  bellowing  over  the 
water : 

"  Hello,  there  !  bring  back  that  boat,  you  scamp 
you ! " 

The  two  men  were  running  along  the  shore  and 
making  all  sorts  of  frantic  gestures.  I  was  scared 
almost  out  of  my  wits,  but  I  held  a  steady  hand 


22  MY  FIRST  VOYAGE; 

on  the  tiller,  so  that  the  boat  kept  on  before  the 
breeze. 

Never,  I  am  sure,  did  men  cut  such  wild  capers 
and  yell  and  shriek  as  they  did.  It  did  them  no 
good,  however,  for  I  sailed  right  on  my  course. 
I  felt  free  and  victorious.  No  boy  of  my  age  had 
ever  performed  so  daring  a  thing  as  to  capture  the 
boat  and  treasure-box  of  pirates  or  smugglers. 

The  thought  gave  me  renewed  strength  and 
firmness.  They  screamed  and  shouted  and  called 
me  names  and  shook  their  fists  at  me,  but  on  I 
went. 


III. 


Meantime,  at  Bay  St.  Louis  my  father  and  his 
friends  had  searched  the  town  and  all  the  country 
round  for  me,  and  great  excitement  prevailed. 
No  one,  not  even  Uncle  Luben,  thought  of  my 
attempting  a  voyage  alone,  for  the  old  negro  had 
taken  all  my  talk  as  mere  boyish'  prattle,  and  my 
father  had  never  heard  a  word  of  it.  True,  the 
boat  was  missed,  but  it  was  supposed  that  the 


MY    FIRST   VOYAGE.  23 

storm  had  loosed  it  from  its  anchorage  and  blown 
it  away  to  sea.  Several  other  small  craft  had 
been  lost  in  the  same  way,  on  account  of  the  sud 
denness  of  the  gale. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  when 
I  proudly  steered  my  captured  vessel  and  cargo 
up  to  the  landing  under  the  tree-fringed  bluff  of 
Bay  St.  Louis.  Some  one  recognized  me  and 
gave  the  word  to  others  and  soon  a  crowd  gathered 
to  see  me.  My  father  heard  the  outcry,  and  I  saw 
him  hurrying  towards  me,  his  face  pale  and  excited. 

Everybody  was  so  glad  to  see  me  alive  that 
great  shouts  went  up  from  the  men  while  some  of 
the  women  cried.  As  soon  as  I  went  ashore  I 
was  surrounded  and  a  hundred  questions  were 
asked  me  at  once.  No  wonder  my  father  looked 
at  me  so  strangely,  for  I  was  muddy  from  head  to 
foot,  haggard,  wild-eyed,  my  hair  all  matted  and 
my  clothes  torn  into  tatters.  I  tried  to  tell  my 
story,  but  somehow  I  could  not.  I  pointed  to 
the  boat  and  the  box. 

11  Why,  that's  the  surveyor's  boat !  "  cried  some 
one,  "  how'd  the  boy  get  that  ?  " 


24  MY    FIRST    VOYAGE. 

"It  is  the  surveyor's  boat,"  repeated  another, 
"  where's  the  surveyor?  " 

I  felt  weak  and  faint.  My  father  had  to  carry 
me  to  the  house,  and  for  four  long,  weary  weeks 
I  lay  on  my  bed  sick  with  fever.  During  all  that 
time  I  was  wholly  unconscious  of  the  great  joke 
the  towns-people  had  to  tease  the  surveyor  with. 
As  you  have  suspected,  no  doubt,  it  was  a  surveyor 
and  his  assistant  whom  I  had  taken  for  pirates. 
The  brass-bound  box  contained  a  transit,  which 
is  a  sort  of  compass  with  a  telescope  attached. 
Some  persons  who  thought  of  locating  a  building 
on  the  island  had  sent  the  surveyor  down  there 
to  plat  it,  and  I  had  run  away  with  his  boat 
and  instrument,  leaving  him  and  his  assistant 
to  take  care  of  themselves  as  best  they  could  ! 

But  I  paid  dearly  for  that  escapade.  I  suffered 
all  the  pangs  of  a  rheumatic  fever,  and  then,  when 
I  began  to  get  well,  I  felt  so  much  remorse  for 
what  I  had  done  that  it  was  long  before  I  could 
look  my  father  in  the  face  and  promise  him,  of 
my  own  accord,  never  to  do  such  a  thing  again. 


HOW  NED  SCALED  MT.  WASH 
INGTON. 

WELL,  sir,  I'm  sorry,  but  it  can't  be  helped. 
You  are  a  little  ahead  of  the  season." 

"  Well  —  but  —  I  say,  isn't  there  a  way  of  man 
aging  it  —  by  paying  double  fare,  or  something  of 
that  sort  ? " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  clerk ;  "  it  can't  be  done. 
The  season  doesn't  begin  until  the  middle  of  June, 
and  it  wouldn't  pay  the  company  to  start  running 
cars  up  the  mountain  until  there  are  people  to  go. 
Come  back  in  about  four  weeks  and  you'll  find  us 
running  up,  but  just  now  you  will  have  to  content 
yourself  with  a  sight  of  the  mountains." 

Ned  Stanley  turned  from  the  clerk  with  a  very 

disappointed  face.     Here    he  was   at  the  White 

Mountains  —  at   the    far-famed    Fabyan    House, 

rested  by  a  night's  sleep  and  ready  for  the  ascent 

25 


26  HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON. 

of  Mt.  Washington.  He  had  come  all  the  way 
from  Missouri  —  had  been  studying  up  the  trip, 
and  particularly  the  ascent  for  months.  He  had 
seen  stereoscopic  views  of  the  elevated  railway 
and  had  imagined  himself  in  sundry  dangerous 
and  exciting  situations.  He  had,  in  fancy,  retailed 
the  adventure  to  his  less  fortunate  companions  at 
home,  unconsciously  making  himself,  and  not  the 
railway,  the  central  figure.  He  had  been  asked 
by  various  imaginary  persons  : 

"Did  you  go  up  Mt.  Washington?"  and  had 
answered,  "  Of  course  ;  the  White  Mountains  with 
out  Mt.  Washington  would  be  like  the  play  of 
Hamlet  with  Hamlet  left  out."  (He  had  heard 
that  from  a  chance  acquaintance  on  the  train  and 
it  struck  him  as  a  particularly  neat  and  original 
way  of  putting  it.) 

Now  to  get  here  and  be  told  that  the  cars 
wouldn't  run  for  four  weeks  was  a  little  too  much  ! 
If  anybody  should  ask  about  Mt.  Washington  he 
could  only  say,  "  The  cars  were  not  running  and 
I  couldn't  go  upj"  and  then  perhaps  the  other  fel 
low  might  "  quote  Hamlet."  Then  there  was  Tom 


HOW   NED   SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON.  27 

Winston.  He  gave  a  pebble  a  vicious  kick.  Tom 
had  ventured  some  advice  because  he  had  once  been 
to  Chicago  and  felt  his  superiority  as  a  traveller,  and 
Ned  had  said  not  very  graciously,  "  Now,  don't 
you  fret,  Tom,  about  me.  I've  studied  this  thing 
up  and  know  what  I'm  about  if  I  haven't  been  to 
Chicago."  Of  course  Tom  would  ask  about  the 
ascent  of  Mt.  Washington  and  tell  the  other  fel 
lows,  and  —  oh,  yes,  Hamlet  was  left  out ! 

The  mountains  were  there  in  their  majesty,  'tis 
true,  and  Ned  had  said  to  himself  that  morning  as 
he  saw  the  sun  rise  over  Mt.  Washington,  "  This 
pays  a  fellow  for  the  ride  "  —  but  the  glory  of  it 
was  gone  now. 

He  wandered  down  to  the  Mt.  Pleasant  House, 
back  again,  and  up  to  the  White  Mouutain  House  ; 
"  anything,"  he  said,  "  to  kill  time." 

Mt.  Deception,  back  of  the  hotel,  looked  invit 
ing  and  he  determined  to  climb  that.  The  view 
was  good,  and  had  it  not  been  that  Mordecai  sat 
at  the  king's  gate  in  the  shape  of  unattainable  Mt. 
Washington  he  would  have  been  more  than  satis 
fied  with  it. 


28     HOW  NED  SCALED  MT.  WASHINGTON. 

Returning,  he  found  it  was  time  for  dinner, 
which  he  prolonged  as  much  as  possible.  He  was 
strongly  tempted  to  take  an  earlier  train  for  Port 
land,  but  having  planned  to  leave  Fabyan's  at  four 
he  determined  to  carry  out  the  programme  as  far 
as  he  could. 

After  dinner  he  walked  down  to  the  station  "  to 
see  the  other  fools  get  caught,"  he  said  savagely 
to  himself.  But  the  train  puffed  in  and  out  and 
nobody  was  caught.  Ned's  dissatisfaction  in 
creased.  It  seemed  that  he  was  the  only  travel 
ler  who  didn't  know  Mt.  Washington's  office-hours! 

He  tried  to  strike  up  a  conversation  with  the 
agent,  but  found  him  uncommunicative  and  pre 
occupied,  after  the  manner  of  agents  with  inexperi 
enced  travellers. 

"  I  think  I'll  take  a  stroll  to  the  foot  of  the 
mountain,"  said  Ned,  as*  the  agent  put  his  key  into 
the  door  preparatory  to  locking  up. 

"  I  should,"  said  the  man,  dryly,  as  he  started 
off.  "  It'll  give  you  good  exercise.  ' 

"  How  far  is  it  ? "  asked  Ned.  But  the  man  was 
gone. 


HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON.  29 

Ned  deliberated  :  "  I  can't  get  lost  if  I  follow 
the  railroad,  and  I  can  say  I've  been  to  the  foot  of 
the  mountain  anyway.  I'll  see  one  end  if  I  can't 
the  other." 

He  started  down  the  track.  There  was  a  good 
deal  to  see,  after  all,  for  a  boy  who  had  never  be 
held  a  mountain,  and  Ned  found  his  spirits  rising 
as  he  walked. 

He  sauntered  along,  stopping  now  and  then  to 
break  off  a  specimen  with  the  geologist's  hammer 
which  he  carried  in  his  pocket,  and  once  to  make 
a  sketch. 

"  I'll  make  a  better  one  from  it  when  I  get 
home,"  he  promised  himself  as  he  put  it  away  and 
jogged  on. 

Mountain  air  is  deceptive,  and  the  distance 
which  looked  so  short  to  Ned  lengthened  out  to 
six  rniles  before  he  reached  the  foot  of  the  moun 
tain. 

Here  the  elevated  railway  begins.  Ned  crossed 
from  one  track  to  the  other  and  took  a  look  around. 
There  was  not  much  to  see.  It  was  unsatisfactory 
after  his  long  walk. 


30     HOW  NED  SCALED  MT.  WASHINGTON. 

He  looked  up  the  mountain  track  —  it  didn't 
look  very  hard  to  climb  —  and  there  must  be  some 
thing  to  see,  even  just  a  short  way  up. 

He  took  out  his  watch  and  found,  to  his  surprise, 
that  it  was  already  too  late  to  make  the  four 
o'clock  train. 

And  then  Ned  did  a  very  foolish  thing.  He 
deliberately  turned  his  back  upon  Fabyan's  and 
started  up  the  mountain. 

Not  that  he  had  any  idea  of  going  to  the  top  — 
he  told  himself  definitely  that  he  should  only  go  a 
short  distance  —  just  far  enough  to  get  a  view; 
and  then  he  should  retrace  his  steps  and  reach 
Fabyan's  in  time  for  a  late  supper. 

The  first  part  of  the  ascent  was  rather  a  dis 
appointment.  Ned  had  not  expected  to  see  so 
many  trees,  but  had  pictured  the  whole  of  Mt. 
Washington  as  being  like  the  stereoscopic  views 
of  the  top  —  all  bowlders  and  lichens.  More  than 
once  he  turned  to  go  back,  saying  to  himself  that 
it  hadn't  paid,  but  something  drew  him  on  —  per 
haps  more  a  dogged  determination  to  see  some 
thing  worth  seeing,  than  anything  else. 


HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON.  31 

As  he  went  on  the  trees  grew  smaller  and  scarce, 
the  chasms  widened  and  deepened,  Mt.  Madison 
and  Mt.  Monroe  lifted  their  heads  above  the 
clouds,  and  before  he  knew  it  Ned  was  standing 
still,  drinking  in  the  glories  of  Mt.  Washington. 

There  was  no  turning  back  now.  He  must  have 
the  view  from  behind  yonder  bowlder  —  once  there, 
he  must  cross  the  trestle-work  beyond  and  look 
into  the  chasm  over  which  it  hung. 

Time,  fatigue,  cold,  were  forgotten.  .  The  one 
desirable  thing  in  life,  now,  was  to  see.  As  I  said, 
he  was  a  Western  boy  accustomed  to  level  prairies 
and  sluggish  streams,  and  this  taste  of  mountain 
scenery  intoxicated  him. 

As  he  pressed  on  beyond  the  shelter  of  the  over 
hanging  rocks  a  sharp  wind  struck  him  with  a  sud 
den  chill.  He  stopped  and  looked  back. 

The  track  wound  down  the  mountain  side  like  a 
serpent.  At  the  foot  the  shadows  had  deepened 
till  he  could  not  tell  tree  from  track.  The  valley 
was  full  of  gloom  and  a  dull  mist  obscured  objects 
that  he  had  but  just  now  noticed. 

Could  it  be  growing  dark  down  there  ? 


32  HOW    NED   SCALED    MX.    WASHINGTON. 

He  looked  up  the  mountain.  This  track  was 
clearly  defined,  the  western  light  bringing  every 
thing  out  in  relief. 

A  glance  at  his  watch  turned  his  face  homeward 
with  a  sudden  sense  of  alarm.  Where  had  the 
time  gone  ?  Would  he  be  able  to  make  it  before 
dark  ?  He  certainly  had  not  a  moment  to  lose. 

In  turning  to  descend,  Ned  had  the  same  ex 
perience  we  all  have  had,  doubtless ;  He  found  it 
was  one  thing  to  go  up  a  steep  place  and  quite 
another  to  go  down.  Moreover,  he  had  suffered 
from  childhood  from  dizziness  in  looking  down  any 
steep  descent.  He  always  had  hated  himself  for 
having  such  a  womanish  weakness  and  had  suf 
fered  tortures  to  keep  the  knowledge  of  it  from  the 
boys ;  but  it  lurked  still,  ready  to  overpower  him 
now  at  any  moment. 

To  add  to  the  danger  of  the  descent  there  was  a 
frost  gathering  on  the  track  and  increasing  every 
minute.  Ned  had  gone  but  a  few  steps  when  his 
foot  slipped  on  a  treacherous  tie  and  he  was  thrown 
violently  back.  The  grade  was  very  steep  at  that 
point  —  so  steep  that  Ned  had  fancied  it  must  be 


HOW    NED   SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON.  35 

"  Jacob's  Ladder."  As  he  sat  holding  on  to  the 
rails  he  looked  over  the  trestle  to  see  what  he  had 
escaped.  One  glance  was  enough !  He  drew 
back,  sick  and  faint  —  his  old  enemy  had  him  ! 

He  sat  still,  with  closed  eyes,  trying  to  think 
what  he  should  do.  He  must  go  on  —  there  was 
no  alternative  —  but  he  dreaded  to  stand  up  and 
face  that  chasm  below.  He  said  to  himself  that 
he  must  not— --he  would  not  —  grow  dizzy;  and 
of  course,  this  very  nervousness  increased  the 
dizziness. 

It  was  a  lonely  plight  for  a  boy  to  be  in,  half 
way  up  the  mountain  side,  not  a  human  soul 
within  miles,  and  night  coming  on !  How  fast  it 
was  coming  on  !  At  that  instant  the  sun  dropped 
in  behind  the  hills,  and  Ned,  accustomed  to  prairie 
sunsets  and  the  long  afterglow,  found  he  had 
counted  upon  more  daylight  than  he  was  likely  to 
have. 

Nerving  himself  for  another  trial,  he  cautiously 
got  upon  his  feet.  As  he  did  so  he  missed  his 
hammer  which  he  had  had  in  his  hand  when  he 
fell.  Looking  around,  he  found  it  hanging  in  the 


36  HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON. 

cog-rail  a  few  steps  above  him  where  he  had  prob 
ably  thrown  it  in  his  efforts  to  catch  himself. 
Going  back  for  it  he  found,  to  his  surprise,  that  it 
was  easy  enough  to  go  up  —  that  it  was  the  down 
ward  motion  which  had  produced  the  dizziness. 

This  discovery  brought  him  to  a  standstill  again. 
Since  he  couldn't  go  down,  at  least  not  without 
much  danger,  why  not  go  up  ? 

If  this  was  really  Jacob's  Ladder  he  was  half 
way  up  now.  If  he  went  on  he  should  be  getting 
more  of  the  fading  daylight  all  the  time ;  if  he 
went  down  into  the  valley  he  should  be  going 
from  it. 

Then,  there  was  another  consideration.  When 
he  got  to  the  top  he  should  be  sure  of  a  hot  sup 
per  and  a  bed ;  if  he  went  down  there  would  be 
that  long  walk  to  Fabyan's  after  he  reached  the 
base.  Ned's  exercise  had  made  him  hungry,  and 
the  thought  of  ham  and  eggs,  beefsteak  and  hot 
coffee,  turned  the  scale  in  favor  of  the  Summit 
House. 

Having  once  determined  to  go  on,  he  walked 
•  briskly  forward,  wishing  to  make  the  most  of  the 


HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON.'  37 

daylight  left.  He  looked  into  no  more  chasms, 
but  kept  his  gaze  on  the  track  ahead  and  on  the 
mountain  tops  across  the  ravines.  He  saw  a  tiny 
spark  on  the  top  of  one,  and,  as  he  looked,  won 
dering  what  it  could  be,  another  came,  and  an 
other,  and  then  he  knew  the  stars  were  out.  He 
had  a  strange  feeling  of  companionship  as  they 
formed  themselves  into  the  familiar  constellations. 
They  were  the  same  old  stars,  anyway,  the  same 
his  mother  was  watching  now,  perhaps,  out  on  the 
prairie.  He  was  glad  she  did  not  know  where  he 
was. 

There  was  no  moon  yet,  but  it  would  rise,  he 
thought,  before  he  reached  the,  top.  The  star 
light  enabled  him  to  see  the  track,  but  the  scraggy 
trees  and  brush  took  strange  shapes.  Ned  was 
sure  once  that  a  man  stood  by  the  track  a  little 
ahead.  When  he  reached  it  it  was  a  dwarf-spruce. 
Another  time  a  horse's  head  rose  before  him  as 
the  track  turned,  but  proved  to  be  only  a  jutting 
rock.  Ned  was  not  conscious  of  fear,  but  he  could 
not  keep  these  strange  shapes  out  of  his  mind. 

He  stepped  cautiously  along  the  ties  but  once  a 


38  HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON. 

shadow  deceived  him  and  he  bore  his  whole 
weight  upon  that.  Down  he  went  between  the 
ties,  almost  to  his  armpits.  He  drew  himself  up 
again  bruised  and  panting.  Lighting  a  match,  he 
set  fire  to  a  paper  and  threw  it  down  looking  to 
see  what  it  might  light  up.  He  found  he  was  on 
a  trestle,  perhaps  thirty  feet  high,  and  the  grade 
was  the  steepest  he  had  yet  encountered. 

Ned  dared  not  trust  himself,  after  this  experi 
ence,  to  walk,  but  laying  aside  everything  but  his 
instinct  of  self-preservation  he  took  the  ties  as  the 
rounds  of  a  ladder  and  continued  his  journey  on 
all-fours.  The  ties  were  slippery  and  cold  and 
Ned  soon  felt  stiff  from  his  unaccustomed  position, 
but  not  knowing  anything  about  the  turns  in  the 
road  he  thought  it  better  to  bear  these  ills  than  to 
risk  those  he  knew  not  of. 

He  never  knew  just  how  long  he  was  in  reaching 
the  top.  Chilled  through  and  through,  with  hands 
so  numb  they  could  hardly  do  their  work,  he  toiled 
on  only  because  there  was  nothing  else  he  could  do. 

At  last  the  moon  rose,  and  almost  at  the  same 
moment  a  monument  appeared  at  the  right.  This 


HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON.  39 

Ned  recognized  from  the  pictures  as  the  monu 
ment  erected  to  the  memory  of  Lizzie  Bourne,  who 
perished  on  this  spot  years  ago.  As  ghostly  as  it 
looked  in  the  moonlight,  it  sent  a  thrill  of  joy 
through  his  heart,  for  he  knew  it  was  only  a  few 
steps  from  the  top.  And  sure  enough  another 
turn  brought  him  out  upon  a  level  track  with  a 
platform  by  its  side. 

Ned  looked  around  him  with  an  interest  quite 
natural  under  the  circumstances.  At  his  right  was 
the  Summit  House  where  he  expected  to  find  the 
supper  and  the  bed.  To  his  surprise,  all  was  dark. 
It  must  be  later  than  he  had  thought. 

He  lost  no  time  in  finding  the  door  and  giving 
a  sounding  knock.  Nothing  answered  but  the 
echoes.  It  was  strange,  there  was  no  light  in  the 
office.  He  wondered,  as  he  knocked  again,  how 
they  made  it  pay  this  time  of  the  year.  They 
must  depend  upon  the  railroad  travel  for  custom. 
A  horrible  thought  here  flashed  over  him.  Could 
it  be  that  the  hotel  was  not  open  ? 

It  was  even  so.  Ned  was  on  the  top  of  Mt. 
Washington,  alone. 


40  HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON. 

For  a  few  minutes  he  almost  gasped  —  from  the 
discovery  and  the  rarified  air  together.  What 
could  he  do  ?  His  common  sense  came  to  the 
rescue.  Why,  get  into  the  house,  of  course.  He 
would  freeze  to  death  outside. 

He  scratched  a  match,  shielding  it  from  the 
wind  with  his  hat,  and  examined  the  window  to 
see  how  it  was  fastened.  There  was  an  ordinary 
catch  at  one  side,  which  he  could  easily  manage 
if  he  could  get  at  it.  By  breaking  one  pane  of 
glass  he  could  do  that.  Stones  are  plentiful  on 
the  top  of  Mt.  Washington  and  Ned  felt  no  com 
punction  in  using  one.  The  catch  yielded  readily 
to  his  touch  and  the  next  minute  he  was  in  the 
office  of  the  Summit  House. 

Another  match  and  a  little  search  showed  him 
a  bracket  lamp,  and  a  light  made  the  gloomy 
room  almost  cheerful.  The  next  thing  was  a  fire. 
There  was  a  large  coal  stove  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  kept  burning  all  summer  for  the  comfort 
of  guests,  and  Ned  soon  had  a  roaring  fire.  He 
could  not  wait  for  coal,  but  made  it  of  wood,  en 
joying  heartily  its  snap  and  crackle. 


HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON.  41 

He  held  his  stiffened  fingers  to  the  blaze  and,  as 
the  warm  shivers  ran  up  his  back  and  loosened 
his  joints,  thought  it  wasn't  such  a  bad  adventure 
after  all. 

He  next  took  up  the  lamp  and  started  on  an 
exploring  tour.  But  with  all  his  lucky  happenings 
he  happened  upon  nothing  to  eat.  Returning  to 
the  office  he  helped  himself  to  one  of  the  Summit 
House  letter-heads  and  wrote  a  letter  to  the  writer 
of  this  story,  dated  "  Top  of  Mt.  Washington,"  in 
which  he  detailed  his  adventure. 

He  found  himself  ready  for  bed  early  after  his 
unusual  exertions  and  having  choice  of  rooms  he 
was  soon  covered  with  warm  blankets,  sleeping 
the  sleep  of  the  —  young. 

He  awoke  bright  and  early  the  next  morning 
and  started  out  to  make  observations.  He  found 
himself  on  a  plateau  about  an  acre  in  extent. 
The  Summit  House  was  the  largest  building,  but 
near  were  the  old  Tip  Top  House  and  the  Signal 
Station.  If  Ned  had  only  known  it  he  might  have 
found  companions  in  the  two  officers  who  spend 
nine  months  of  the  year  here  alone". 


42  HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON. 

But  he  did  not  know  it,  and  being  reminded  by 
an  inward  craving  that  his  breakfast  hour  was  past 
and  a  walk  of  nine  miles  yet  before  him  he  took  a 
farewell  look  and  prepared  to  descend. 

By  day  and  in  good  weather  the  descent  is  not 
a  dangerous  one,  and  Ned  found  no  difficulty  in 
going  rapidly  ahead,  sometimes  walking  on  the 
track,  sometimes  beside  it,  and  occasionally,  where 
the  grade  was  steep,  riding  on  a  board  placed 
across  the  rails,  using  his  feet  as  brakes  when  he 
found  himself  going  too  fast. 

It  was  a  glorious  walk  and  paid  him,  he  thought, 
for  all  the  hardships  and  risks  of  the  night  before. 
But  still  it  was  rather  a  forlorn  young  man  that 
presented  himself  before  the  clerk  at  Fabyan's  that 
morning  asking  meekly  if  it  was  too  late  for  break 
fast.  He  told  the  whole  story,  not  dwelling  much 
upon  the  climbing,  which,  indeed,  was  not  neces 
sary  since  his  trousers  corroborated  the  story,  but 
telling  of  the  broken  window  and  the  stolen  lodg 
ing.  "  I'll  pay  you  whatever  is  right,"  he  said, 
"  if  it's  under  your  management." 

The  clerk  smiled.     "  It  isn't  under  our  man- 


HOW    NED    SCALED    MT.    WASHINGTON.  43 

agement  exactly,"  he  said.  "  I  really  should  have 
no  right  to  take  the  money.  And  then,"  he  said, 
dryly,  contrasting  the  figure  before  him  with  the 
stylish  young  man  of  yesterday,  "  I  rather  guess 
you've  paid  your  way  already,  haven't  you  ? " 
And  Ned  rather  thought  he  had. 


THE    USE    OF    IT. 

on,  Joe  ;  it's  a  pink  of  a  day  for  a  frolic 
in  the  woods.  Father's  started  for  the  Sta 
tion  and  I  hid  until  he  was  off,  I  was  so  'fraid  he 
might  leave  me  something  extra  to  do.  But  I'm 
free  for  all  day,  so  come  on,  I  say !  " 

".Can't,  Ben." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  I  must  ride  Black  Harry  around  the  pasture 
until  he's  tired  and  stops  racing  ;  then  I'm  to  ride 
him  along  the  road  as  far  as  the  Post-office." 

"  Well,  if  you  must  you  must,"  said  Ben,  "  but 
I'm  sorry  for  a  feller  who  can't  have  his  freedom 
such  a  glory-fine  day  as  this.  By  the  way,  Joe, 
did  I  tell  you,  father's  going  to  buy  me  a  bicy 
cle  ? " 

"  You  don't  say  !  " 

44 


THE    USE    OF    IT.  45 

"  Yes,  true  as  guns  !  Can  you  go  to-morrow 
morning  to  the  woods  if  it's  pleasant  ? " 

"  No  :  got  to  saw  wood." 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  What's  the  use  of  a  fellow's 
having  to  hammer  away  at  something  in  the  way 
of  work  all  the  time  ?  Vacation  too  ! " 

"  I  can  do  whatever  I  like  all  the  long  after 
noons,"  said  Joe  a  little  disconsolately ;  "  but 
father  thinks  boys  ought  to  learn  to  do  all  sorts  of 
useful  things." 

"  But  what's  the  .use  ? "  asked  Ben. 

"  I  suppose  father  knows ;  and  he  says  I  will 
one  of  these  days  if  I  live.  But  ain't  you  the 
lucky  boy  to  have  a  bicycle !  " 

A  whoop  interrupted  them  and  two  or  three 
other  boys  appeared  from  around  the  corner ; 
bright-eyed,  active-limbed  and  fairly  dancing  with 
fun  and  merriment  were  thp  new-comers  as  they 
accosted  Joe  and  Ben  in  lively  boy  fashion  : 

"  Come  on,  Toodlewigs !  Hop  around  there, 
Bouncer  !  We're  off  for  a  berry-picking,  and  our 
noon  meal  in  the  cool  shadow  of  the  berry  bushes, 
where  we  shall  dig  a  hole  and  roast  some  'taters, 


46  THE    USE    OF    IT. 

pop  some  corn,  and  have  a  nice  little  racket  all  to 
ourselves.' 

"  Joe  can't  go,"  said  Ben ,  "  he's  got  to  ride  his 
majesty,  the  young  Black  Harry,  round  the  lot  till 
he's  all  fagged  out,  then  take  him  to  the  Post- 
office  for  the  mail." 

Joe  laughed,  but  told  the  boys  why  he  must  re 
main  on  the  place  for  at  least  two  mornings. 

"  Well,  it's  too  bad,"  said  the  merry  boys ;  "  but 
we  must  be  off  or  the  robins  will  get  the  berries 
before  we  arrive.  Day,  day,  Joe,  boy,  a  nice  ride 
to  you !  " 

Black  Harry  was  a  splendid  young  horse  raised 
on  the  place ;  somewhat  strong-headed,  fleet,  but 
yet  trustworthy  if  judiciously  handled,  else  Dr. 
Benner  had  hardly  given  orders  to  his  only  son, 
fourteen-year-old  Joe,  to  ride  him  around  the  lot 
until  he  was  tired.  The  boy  had  been  trained  to 
the  saddle  from  a  child.  He  had  also  been  care 
fully  instructed  as  to  the  use  of  axe  and  saw,  and 
many  other  tools  ;  also  how  to  load  and  discharge 
a  gun,  to  row,  and  manage  a  sail  boat ;  and  the 
boy  was  a  capital  swimmer. 


THE    USE    OF    IT  47 

Dr.  Banner  was  sometimes  called  an  eccentric 
man,  and  so  perhaps  he  was ;  but  those  who  knew 
the  Doctor  best  considered  him  more  sagacious 
than  peculiar. 

Joe's  mother  had  died  during  his  babyhood,  and 
the  Doctor  realized  as  he  once  expressed  it,  that 
the  boy  would  most  likely  be  whatever  by  God's 
blessing  he  chose  to  make  him,  which  he  hoped 
ultimately  would  be  a  whole  man  ;  so  he  had  set 
conscientiously  to  work  for  that  result. 

"  Well  done  !  "  said  the  Doctor  to  himself,  as 
pausing  on  his  long  round  of  calls  he  stopped  for 
a  moment  at  the  wide  pasture  and  peeped  through 
the  bushes. 

"  Well  done  !  the  boy  manages  his  charger  well 
and  no  mistake  !  " 

Black  Harry  was  literally  tearing  with  leaps  and 
bounds  from  one  part  of  the  pasture  to  the  other ; 
occasionally  a  little  stump  would  threaten  to  im 
pede  his  progress,  but  with  a  frolicsome  plunge  he 
would  leave  it  far  behind,  while  the  sturdy  young 
rider  who  sat  the  animal  with  perfect  ease  would 
now  and  then  draw  a  tighter  rein  or  speak  a  word 


48  THE    USE    OF    IT. 

of  command,  when  the  bounding  creature  would 
obey  at  once  as  if  in  complete  sympathy  with  his 
master's  wishes. 

At  length,  after  a  long  season  of  headlong  speed, 
Black  Harry  put  on  more  style,  as  slackening  his 
pace  he  arched  his  long  neck,  and  stepping  high 
and  daintily  like  Puss  herself,  at  a  signal  from 
Joe,  he  easily  leaped  the  low  strip  fence  and 
pranced  along  the  road  in  the  direction  of  the 
Post-office. 

Joe  received  the  mail,  and  soon  after  stood 
watching  his  father  in  the  study  as  he  began  exam 
ining  his  letters. 

One  missive  proved  to  be  a  circular ;  and  as 
Dr.  Benner  opened  it,  there  appeared  before  Joe's 
longing  eyes  pictures  of  bicycles  of  most  attractive 
form  and  style,  the  slender  wheels  seeming  almost 
to  roll  and  move.  Joe  spoke  : 

"  Oh,  father,  how  I  do  wish  I  could  have  a  bi 
cycle  !  " 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  have  one,  my  son  ?  " 

"  Are  you  really  willing  I  should  ?  "  asked  Joe 
delightedly. 


THE    USE    OF    IT.  49 

"  Certainly,  my  boy." 

"  And  when  may  I  get  it  ?  " 

"  Just  as  soon  as  you  can  earn  it." 

Joe's  countenance  fell.  It  had  been  a  com 
paratively  easy  thing  earning  his  money  for  the 
Fourth  of  July  which  was  close  at  hand,  as  so 
many  farmers  had  been  glad  of  extra  help  during 
the  early  haying ;  but  to  earn  the  sum  required  to 
purchase  a  first-class  bicycle  —  really  that  was  too 
bad  of  his  father. 

"  Ben  Low's  father  is  going  to  give  him  a  bi 
cycle,"  said  Joe  experimentally.  "  I  think  he's  a 
wonderfully  lucky  fellow." 

"  Yes,  I  should  think  he  was,"  said  the  Doctor 
without  looking  up  from  his  reading. 

"  And  Ben  has  all  day  to  himself  to  spend  as 
he  likes,"  added  Joe. 

"  When  Ben  gets  his  bicycle,  you  let  me  know 
how  many  hands  high  it  is,  will  you  ?  "  said  the 
Doctor  dreamily. 

"  Yes,  indeed  I  will  !  "  Joe  answered  eagerly. 

"  And  his  father  gives  him  no  tasks,  eh  ?  " 

«  Well  "  —  Joe  hesitated  —  "  Ben  did  say  he  hid 


50  THE    USE    OF    IT. 

until  his  father  left  the  house  this  morning,  for 
fear  he  might  leave  him  a  task." 

"  My  son  !  "  Dr.  Benner  suddenly  woke  up,  his 
voice  ringing,  his  glance  sharp  as  a  needle  : 

"  My  son !  if  for  any  reason  I  neglect  to  give 
you  a  task  in  the  morning  during  your  vacation  or 
at  any  time  hereafter,  and  you  see  anything  you 
think  ought  to  be  done,  I  wish  to  feel  I  can  rely 
on  you  to  do  it.  I  suppose  I  can  trust  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  father,  I  think  you  can,  I'm  sure  I  want 
you  to,"  he  added  with  boyish  sincerity. 

"Very  well,"  was  the  abrupt  rejoinder;  "by  be 
ing  faithful  in  little  things,  you  may  in  time  reap 
large  rewards  —  and  you  may  not.  At  all  events 
an  approving  conscience  will  be  found  an  exceed 
ing  benefit ;  but  don't  forget  when  Ben  Low's 
father  buys  his  bicycle  to  let  me  know  just  how 
many  hands  high  it  is.  I  shall  be  interested  to 
hear,"  he  added  dryly. 

Joe  was  vaguely  conscious  that  his  father's  tone 
was  a  little  incredulous,  or  mocking,  or  something 
of  the  kind  ;  but  he  could  not  quite  divine  it,  and 
soon  forgot  the  impression  entirely. 


THE    USE    OF    IT.  51 

There  was  to  be  a  Convention  of  medical  men  in 
the  city  thirty  miles  distant  on  the  third  of  July. 
Excursion  tickets  were  placed  within  the  means  of 
all  wishing  to  avail  themselves  of  an  opportunity 
to  profit  by  the  occasion.  Eminent  physicians 
from  all  parts  of  the  State  would  meet  to  compare 
facts  and  experiences  well  worth  the  hearing  of 
those  interested  in  medical  lore  or  surgical  skill. 

Dr.  Benner  was  to  leave  home  on  Wednesday 
morning,  the  third,  expecting  with  many  others  to 
return  on  the  afternoon  of  the  Fourth  of  July ; 
and  on  the  next  day,  the  fifth,  the  Doctor  had 
been  planning  for  along  time  to  take  Black  Harry 
to  a  Cattle  Show  and  Horse  Fair,  and  place  the 
beautiful  animal  on  exhibition  for  the  day. 

This  time  the  Doctor  left  no  extra  tasks  for  Joe, 
remarking  that  as  he  was  to  have  a  holiday  trip 
himself,  Joe  might  pass  the  time  as  he  thought 
best,  provided  nothing  unforeseen  should  occur  to 
demand  his  attention. 

Straightway  the  merry  boys  fell  to  planning  a 
grand  picnic  to  take  place  on  the  Fourth.  Fire 
crackers  and  punk  had  been  purchased  in  abun- 


52  THE    USE    OF    IT. 

dance  at  the  village  store.  Mrs.  Merriam,  Dr.  Ban 
ner's  housekeeper,  was  to  make  biscuit,  chocolate 
cake,  frosted  cake  and  doughnuts,  the  other  boys 
providing  sandwiches,  boiled  eggs,  lemons  and 
sugar.  And  Joe  and  his  friends  went  to  bed  in 
good  season  on  Wednesday  night  in  anticipation 
of  the  next  day's  sport. 

Thursday  was  bright  and  beautiful.  Joe  felt  in 
no  haste  as  the  party  was  not  to  start  very  early. 
He  ate  his  breakfast  leisurely,  then  packed  his 
basket,  and  having  bade  Mrs.  Merriam  a  joyous 
"good-by,"  started  out  to  meet  the  other  boys. 

He  sped  over  the  lawn  in  front  of  the  house,  and 
was  darting  across  the  pasture  when  a  loud  whinny 
close  by  caused  him  to  stop  a  moment.  Black 
Harry  came  slowly  up,  then  mutely  held  up  one 
hoof  from  which  the  shoe  was  hanging  nearly 
off. 

"  Oh  dear  !  "  exclaimed  Joe  impatiently,  "  what 
made  you  show  that  to  me  now,  Harry  ?  I  can't 
help  you,  old  boy,  indeed  I  can't  —  I  can't !  "  he 
repeated  despairingly  as  the  exact  situation  forced 
itself  upon  him  with  vexing  rapidity. 


THE    USE   OF    IT.  53 

John,  the  Doctor's  man,  had  already  availed  him 
self  of  Dr.  Benner's  permission  to  make  a  little  visjt 
on  his  own  account,  expecting  to  meet  his  master 
at  the  depot  in  the  afternoon.  The  only  other 
man,  a  farm  hand,  was  not  to  be  trusted  with  the 
romping  Harry,  and  Joe  knew  only  too  well  it 
would  be  a  great  disappointment  to  his  father 
should  anything  prevent  his  taking  the  horse  to 
the  Fair  early  the  next  morning. 

What  could  be  done  ! 

The  blacksmith  was  two  miles  away,  and  a  horse 
could  almost  never  be  shod  short  of  an  hour,  and 
oftener  not  for  two  or  three  hours  after  reaching 
the  smithy's,  unless  taken  early  in  the  morning, 
"  and  it'll  be  just  the  same  Fourth  o'  July  or  no 
Fourth  o'  July  !  "  said  poor  Joe  desperately. 

What  could  be  done  ! 

To  give  up  the  picnic  and  his  Fourth  of  July  — 
his  Independence  Day  frolic  —  just  for  Black 
Harry's  shoe  seemed  too  hard  to  contemplate  for 
a  moment ;  and  just  then  a  "  whoop-a-la,"  burst  on 
the  lad's  ear  and  there  was  Ben  Low  and  the  rest 
of  the  party,  baskets  in  hand,  all  ready  for  a  start. 


54  THE    USE    OF    IT. 

Instantly  there  flashed  through  Joe's  mind  a 
recollection  of  the  decided  words  his  father  had 
spoken  only  a  few  days  before,  about  relying  on 
him  to  do  anything  he  thought  ought  to  be  done 
whether  the  task  was  given  him  or  not ;  the  sight 
of  Ben  Low  had  seemed  somehow  to  revive  the 
conversation,  and  on  the  instant  he  also  remem 
bered  his  father's  permission  to  pass  his  time  as  he 
thought  best,  provided  nothing  unforeseen  should 
occur  to  demand  his  attention, 

And  although  his  father  had  allowed  that  re 
ward  might  possibly  attend  the  faithful  perform 
ance  of  duty,  Joe  was  too  much  accustomed  to 
obeying  from  principle  to  do  so  from  any  other 
motive. 

There  was  a  sharp,  brief  conflict ;  then  Joe 
turned  resolutely  towards  his  friends  : 

"  I  can't  go,  boys." 

"  Why  ?  Why  ?  Why,  I  should  like  to  know  ?  " 
cried  one  of  his  companions. 

"  Do  not  my  ears  deceive  my  eyesight !  "  ex 
claimed  another  tragically. 

"  He's  mad  !    Great  Hercules,  yes  !    His  senses 


THE   USE   OF    IT.  57 

do  now  forsake  him !  "  cried  a  third  striking  a 
stagey  attitude. 

But  the  facts  were  briefly  explained,  and  the 
disgusted  boys  finally  convinced  that  Joe  was  in 
earnest. 

Ben  Low  turned  petulantly  away  with  a  familiar 
question  :  "  Well,  I  say,  Old  Scruples,  what's  the 
use  ?  S'pose  it'll  ever  pay,  being  so  awfully  con- 
s'entious  ? " 

"Time'll  tell,"  said  Joe  cheerily,  and  begin 
ning  to  whistle  to  keep  up  heart  as  they  all  turned 
away. 

Joe  remembered  that  his  father  had  said  he 
wished  whoever  went  next  to  the  blacksmith's 
would  take  the  hatchet  and  have  an  edge  put  to  it. 
He  took  it  from  the  tool-chest,  then  unpacked  his 
basket,  making  a  smaller  parcel  containing  a  good 
lunch,  and  having  been  duly  petted  and  pitied  by 
motherly  Mrs.  Merriam,  and  telling  her  he  might 
not  return  for  several  hours,  he  soon  started  off, 
riding  Black  Harry  carefully,  that  the  graceful 
creature  might  not  grow  lame  from  travelling  too 
rapidly  without  a  shoe. 


5  THE    USE   OF    IT. 

Now  and  then  he  thought  with  a  twinge  of  regret 
of  his  lost  holiday  sport,  but  after  a  long,  hot  ride 
over  the  country  roads  and  through  quite  a  stretch 
of  woods,  he  at  last  reached  the  blacksmith's  where 
it  seemed  as  if  every  fine  horse  for  miles  around 
was  awaiting  his  turn  to  be  shod. 

The  day  would  have  been  a  trying  one  but  for 
the  fact  that  Joe,  being  an  enterprising,  intelligent 
lad,  fond  of  seeing  what  was  going  on  and  learn 
ing  something* new  if  possible,  became  interested 
in  watching  the  men  at  their  work.  He  liked  to 
see  the  fiery  sparks  fly  from  the  forge  ;  liked  to  see 
the  grinding  wheel  go  swiftly  round  gradually 
sharpening  the  dull  edge  ;  and  there  was  not  a  lit 
tle  diversion  in  listening  to  the  remarks  and  opin 
ions  of  the  different  ones  who  had  a  horse  to  be 
shod  or  an  axe  to  be  ground. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Joe  started  for 
home  thinking  he  would  go  around  by  the  railroad. 

One  topic  of  conversation  at  the  smithy's  that 
day  had  attracted  his  attention  more  than  any 
other,  and  had  impressed  him  unpleasantly.  Con 
siderable  had  been  said  about  the  ponderously 


THE    USE   OF    IT.  59 

long  train  which  was  to  bring  the  doctors  home, 
leaving  them  at  different  towns  all  along  the  county, 
and  how  the  time  and  signals  had  been  arranged 
with  great  accuracy  to  give  the  Excursion  train 
ample  time  to  avoid  the  regular  Express. 

"  Wall,  I  s'pose  Benjamin  Low  ought  to  know 
what  he's  'bout,"  said  a  burly  countryman,  "  but 
I  tell  you  it's  resky  business,  this  switchin'  an' 
signallin'  great  crowded  trains.  Wants  a  man  o' 
stiddy  habits  and  clear  brains  to  keep  his  wits 
about  him,  and  not  make  any  mistakes,  I  tell  you!" 

There  was  general  concurrence  in  the  man's 
views,  and  Joe  noted  the  fact  with  an  uneasy  sen 
sation.  It  seemed  there  must  be  a  lurking  sus 
picion  or  knowledge  of  possible  unfaithfulness 
on  past  occasions,  regarding  Ben  Low's  father,  yet 
he  must  have  been  considered  trustworthy  to  be 
left  with  such  great  responsibility. 

The  switch-tender's  little  station  was  still  two 
miles  farther  away  from  home  ;  but  mounted  on 
Black  Harry  firmly  shod,  and  impatient  after 
standing  still  so  long,  it  was  the  merest  run. 

So  with  the  nicely  sharpened  hatchet  across  his 


60  THE    USE    OF    IT. 

lap  away  sped  Joe,  and  in  a  very  short  time  he 
came  unexpectedly  upon  the  switch-tender  him 
self  lying  flat  by  the  side  of  the  station  in  a  heavy 
sleep. 

In  vain  Joe  shouted  and  called.  The  man 
could  not  or  would  not  waken.  Joe  grew  cold 
with  a  strange  anxiety  and  apprehension.  The 
place  was  very  lonely  ;  he  had  passed  but  a  single 
habitation  during  his  two  miles'  ride,  and  that 
about  midway,  fully  a  mile  back.  It  would  be 
hard  work  summoning  aid. 

Hastily  slipping  from  Black  Harry's  back,  he 
secured  him,  then  grasping  Mr.  Low  by  the 
shoulder  he  shook  him  as  vigorously  as  he  could. 

The  sleeper  roused  himself  a  little  and  gazed 
stupidly  at  Joe's  face. 

"  Is  the  switch  all  right  ?  "  called  Joe. 

"  You  —  fix  —  switch,"  he  mumbled. 

"  I  say  !  "  Joe  called  again,  "  wake  up,  Mr.  Low, 
wake  up,  I  tell  you  !  Two  loaded  trains  are  com 
ing  along  in  half  an  hour!  Are  the  switches  at 
tended  to,  and  the  signals  all  right  ?  " 

"  You  —  see  —  sig'alls."   Then  the  poor  drunken 


THE   USE   OF    IT.  6 1 

man  fell  flat  again  overcome  by  the  fatal  drowsi 
ness. 

Joe  realized  the  exact  situation  and  set  his  sharp 
boy's  wits  to  work.  He  himself  was  ignorant  of 
switches  and  signals.  There  was  not  a  moment  to 
lose;  he  must  stop  that  incoming  train.  But  how? 

For  three  precious  minutes  he  thought  intently, 
then  exclaimed  excitedly,  "  Yes,  I  have  it ! " 
Springing  into  the  saddle  he  put  Black  Harry  to 
his  utmost  speed. 

A  mile  ahead,  still  following  the  track,  was  a 
high  knoll ;  if  only  he  could  gain  that  point  and 
rig  up  some  kind  of  a  signal,  he  might  warn  them 
in  time,  his  precious  father  among  the  rest  —  he 
must  do  it ! 

He  reached  the  spot,  again  fastened  Black 
Harry,  then  climbed  wrist  over  wrist  the  first  low- 
branched  tree  he  came  to,  firmly  grasping  the 
hatchet  in  one  hand. 

"  Luckiest  thing  in  creation  I  happened  to  have 
this  hatchet  along,"  he  said  aloud,  as  he  began 
chopping  off  a  long,  firm  branch. 

It  was  dexterously  done  and  hatchet  and  branch 


62  THE    USE    OF    IT. 

were  dropped  to  the  ground  just  as  the  Excursion 
train  whistled  at  the  next  station  beyond.  In  five 
or  six  minutes  more  she  would  pass  the  spot  where 
Joe  was  waiting. 

Would  they  see  him  if  he  remained  on  the 
ground  ?  No  ;  he  must  mount  Black  Harry,  hold 
ing  him  with  one  hand,  and  his  signal  in  the  other, 
then  trust  to  his  horsemanship  and  skill  in  coaxing 
and  commanding  to  control  the  mettlesome  animal 
when  the  train  should  come  thundering  around. 

Tearing  off  his  checked  blouse,  he  tied  it  firmly 
with  his  handkerchief  to  the  end  of  the  long,  wil 
lowy  pole,  and  mounting  Black  Harry,  he  waved 
his  signal  aloft  as  the  train  came  with  a  swoop 
and  a  roar  around  the  curve,  only  quarter  of  a 
mile  distant. 

Black  Harry  plunged  and  reared,  but  obeyed 
astonishingly  the  peremptory  voice  of  his  young 
master,  as  the  rushing  thing  came  on.  In  his  ex 
citement  as  the  train  swept  by,  Joe  not  only  waved 
his  signal  wildly,  but  shouted  at  the  top  of  his 
'strong  young  voice  : 

"  Stop  !     Oh  stop  !     For  Heaven's  sake,  stop,  I 


THE    USE    OF    IT.  63 

say ! "  Then  he  heard  the  sharp  alarum  whisfeie, 
saw  the  brakeman  hastily  twisting  the  metals,  and 
still  waving  his  signal  high  in  air,  he  raced  after 
the  slackening  train. 

An  hour  later,  when  the  danger  was  past,  but 
fully  realized,  the  grateful  passengers  from  both 
rescued  trains  were  forcing  upon  Joe's  acceptance 
a  generous  gift  hastily  collected  ;  the  spontaneous 
expression  of  their  admiration  of  the  boy's  pluck 
and  of  their  thankfulness  ;  but  his  father  held  him 
back. 

The  Doctor's  shrewd  eyes  were  decidedly  moist 
as  he  asked  for  the  third  time  in  his  dry,  charac 
teristic  way,  viewing  the  purse  as  if  it  were  a  nat 
ural  curiosity  : 

"  But  what  could  he  do  with  it  —  a  lad  like  him 
who  has  a  father  ? " 

"  Do  with  it  ?"  roared  a  wealthy  farmer  from  up 
country,  who  in  company  with  his  son,  a  young 
physician,  had  attended  the  convention  ;  "  do  with 
it  ?  Why,  man  alive  !  let  him  buy  peanuts  with  it 
if  there  is  nothing  else  he  wants  more,  but  don't 
say  a  fellow  sha'n't  give  a  little  thank-offering  for 


64  THE    USE    OF    IT. 

the  savin'  o'  his  life  and  only  son's,  let  alone  there 
bein'  several  scores  of  us  alive  and  whole,  as  might 
a-been  crushed  to  atoms,  but  for  this  young  hero 
o'  yourn  !  " 

The  speech  so  loud  at  first  ended  in  a  tremble. 

"  Might  as  well  give  in,  Doctor,  for  this  once," 
said  another  old  gentleman  ;  "  we  couldn't  rest  in 
our  beds  to-night  if  the  boy  went  unrewarded." 

And  the  Doctor  had  to  give  in,  because  the  peo 
ple  would  have  their  way ;  and  they  went  off  leav 
ing  their  gift  in  Joe's  hands. 

That  night,  after  recounting  the  events  of  the 
day  to  his  father,  Joe  added  :  "  I  suppose  I  can  use 
some  of  my  present  for  a  bicycle,  can't  I  ?  " 

"  No ;  my  son,"  said  Dr.  Benner,  laying  his 
hand  on  Joe's  knee,  "  no,  my  boy,  the  Bank  will 
be  the  best  place  for  that  at  present.  I  hardly 
approved  that  way  of  rewarding  a  simple  act  of 
humanity,  but  not  wishing  to  wound  the  feelings 
of  any  one  waived  my  own  inclinations  in  the  mat 
ter.  But  I  shall  buy  you  a  bicycle  myself  in  a  day 
or  two,  because  I  think  —  well  —  I  think,  my  boy, 
all  things  considered,  you  have  earned  one.  You 


THE    USE    OF    IT.  65 

lost  your  holiday  sport,  but  saved  your  honor  as  to 
trustworthiness. 

Then  he  added  with  his  occasional  startling  en 
ergy  :  "  But  I  want  to  tell  you  one  thing,  my 
child,  Benjamin  Low  was  once  before  found  sleep 
ing  at  his  post.  It  was  a  long  time  ago,  and  peo 
ple  began  to  feel  assured  he  would  not  be  guilty  of 
like  infidelity  a  second  time.  But  if  in  your  youth 
you  yield  to  temptation  of  that  kind,  I  doubt  if 
in  your  manhood  you  are  either  loyal  to  duty,  or 
possess  so  much  as  a  thimbleful  of  pluck.  And  I 
don't  believe  a  son  of  yours  would  own  a  bicycle 
half  a  hand  high  —  remember  that,  my  boy  ! 

"  And  as  to  the  use  of  faithfulness  in  little 
things :  Well,  if  you  had  let  Black  Harry  go  with 
out  his  shoe  and  risked  disappointing  me  to-mor 
row,  it  is  doubtful  whether  you  and  father  would 
be  talking  safely  and  contentedly  with  each  other 
to-night  as  we  are  doing  —  extremely  doubtful, 
Joe." 


NAN'S    BAMBINO. 

IT  surely  all  came  from  Nan's  wearing  specta 
cles.  Not  stylish,  saucy  "nippers,"  but  regu 
lar,  gold-bowed  spectacles.  They  made  her  look 
about  ten  times  as  knowing  as  any  fourteen-year- 
old  girl  has  any  business  to  be.  They  cast  a  sort 
of  distinguishing  halo  about  her  eyes.  For  Nan 
was  not  far-sighted ;  she  was  not  near-sighted ; 
she  was  not  cross-eyed;  nor  bleared-eyed.  But 
the  trouble  was  as-tig-ma-tism,  and  it  took  an  un 
abridged  dictionary  for  the  other  girls  to  find  out 
what  that  meant.  Nan  was  the  only  young  person 
in  town  with  that  long-worded  disease,  so  her 
position  was  an  enviable  one  —  from  a  certain 
point  of  view ! 

Nan  never  forgot  her  dignity,  nor  her  spectacles. 
She  even  kept  them  close  by  her  bedside  at  night, 
in  case  of  sudden  illness  or  fire.     If  she  happened 
66 


NAN'S  BAMBINO.  67 

to  wake  before  morning  (which  she  did  about 
twice  in  the  course  of  a  year),  she  immediately 
clapped  her  glasses  on,  to  see  that  all  was  right. 

But  this  particular  night,  Nan  was  not  asleep ; 
she  was  sitting  bolt  upright  in  bed,  spectacles  on 
nose,  straining  both  ears  to  hear  the  words  which 
came  through  the  open  door. 

"  If  we  go  to  Europe,  Nan  must  go  too." 

"  Well  —  but  —  consider  —  " 

"There's  no  'but '  about  it,  John  dear.  Not  a 
step  will  I  stir  without  my  one  chick.  Neither 
will  you.  You  know  you  would  be  perfectly  mis 
erable  with  the  Atlantic  Ocean  between  you  and 
your  girl." 

"  So  I  should.  So  I  should,"  admitted  "  John," 
who  was  no  other  than  Nan's  father.  The  next 
moment  he  gave  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  for, 
on  the  threshold,  stood  Nan,  her  eyes  shining  like 
two  stars  behind  the  glittering  glass  of  her  spec 
tacles. 

"  O,  Daddy ! "  she  gasped,  and  there  were 
volumes  in  those  two  words. 

Her  father  laughed. 


68 

"  You  shall  go,  my  little  kid,"  he  said.  And  go 
she  did. 

The  marvels  which  presented  themselves  to  those 
spectacles  are  not  to  be  counted. 

They  peered  at  the  cogs  and  wheels  and  pistons 
of  the  Gallic? s  engines.  They  took  a  survey  of 
the  "  steerage  "  to  see  where  Mikey  McGrath  and 
Blitsen  Sneiders  ate  their  meals  and  "  slept  the 
sleep"  of  the  comparatively  "just." 

They  "  spiered  "  at  Roslyn  Chapel,  near  Edin 
burgh,  and  the  like  of  its  wondrous  carvings  they 
had  never  seen.  They  looked  round  all  the  cor 
ners  in  London  Tower,  and  grew  so  misty  in  the 
room  where  the  Two  Little  Princes  were  smoth 
ered,  that  Nan  had  to  actually  give  up  wearing 
them  for  several  minutes. 

They  stared  at  the  grandest  woman  that  was 
ever  made  —  the  deathless  "  Venus  of  Milo,"  in 
the  Louvre,  and  the  busy  brain  behind  them  cried 
out,  "  Oh  !  Oh  !  !  Oh  ! ! !  "  and  could  find  no  other 
words  sufficient  for  the  occasion. 

Those  glasses  "  took  in  "  the  lovely  Swiss  lakes, 
and  their  owner's  heart  gave  a  great  throb  of  de- 


NAN'S  BAMBINO.  69 

light  when  they  saw  the  blessed  old  "  Northern 
Dipper  "  shining  calmly  above  the  Alps,  just  as 
much  at  home  among  such  lofty  companions  as 
when  twinkling  over  "  Stubb's  Hill "  in  America. 

And  now  Nan  was  in  Rome,  safely  quartered  in 
the  blue-papered  room  at  Madame  Chapman's 
Pension,  on  the  Via  Nasionale. 

Nan  didn't  care  much  for  the  "  ruins  "  in  Rome. 
She  had  not  begun  her  Latin  yet  and  knew  about 
as  much  of  Julius  Ca3sar  and  Cicero  and  the  rest 
of  those  ancient  worthies,  as  most  of  us  do  con 
cerning  Thothmes  u.  of  Egypt,  or  of  Helioga- 
balus.  So  the  "  Forum "  was  alas  !  of  little 
consequence  to  those  gold-bowed  spectacles,  and, 
I  regret  to  state,  that  their  ignorant  little  owner 
called  the  "  Coliseum "  "  an  old,  tumble-down, 
brick  shanty."  Instead  of  listening  to  the  thrill 
ing  tales  of  the  deeds  of  heroism  and  of  valor 
which  had  taken  place  on  that  spot,  Nan  was 
making  friends  with  a  group  of  dirty  Italian  chil 
dren,  and  coaxing  them  to  let  her  hold  their  "  bam 
bino"  (baby)  which  gazed  at  her  imperturbably 
with  round,  black,  beady  eyes. 


7°  NAN'S  BAMBINO. 

In  fact  the  Italian  bambini  were  Nan's  especial 
delight  in  Rome.  And  how  they  did  swarm. 
Babies  to  the  right,  babies  to  the  left.  Babies  in 
the  stived-up  back  streets ;  babies  surrounding 
Trajan's  Forum ;  babies  on  the  Bridge  of  St. 
Angelo.  That  was  where,  on  this  particular  morn 
ing,  Nan  and  her  mother  were  pausing ;  mamma 
examining  Bernini's  "  Breezy  Maniacs  "  (great 
angels,  with  fluttering  wings  and  garments),  Nan 
casting  hasty  glances  at  them  and  then  making 
sundry  darts  at  one,  two,  three  babies,  by  the  way. 

"  Come,  Nan,  come,"  said  her  mother.  "  If  we 
are  going  to  St.  Peter's  this  morning,  we  must 
hurry,  for  the  rain  will  catch  us  before  long." 

Indeed  the  rain  did  catch  them,  in  spite  of  their 
hastening  steps.  They  could  only  rush  hurriedly 
across  the  great  Piazza  in  front  of  St.  Peter's  and 
take  a  hasty  refuge  in  the  vestibule. 

How  the  rain  came  down !  It  pelted  and  it 
poured.  The  music  of  the  fountains,  in  front  of 
the  church,  was  wholly  lost  in  the  rushing  sound 
of  the  deluge  from  the  skies. 

And  yet,  as  Nan  and  her  mother  stood  gazing 


NAN'S  BAMBINO.  71 

out,  what  should  appear  but  a  group  of  people, 
walking  along  as  complacently  as  if  they  were  not 
dripping  wet,  and  as  if  the  water  could  not  have 
been  wrung  out  of  a  certain  blue  bundle  which 
one  of  the  party  carried. 

"  And,  mother !  "  cried  Nan,  in  a  great  excite 
ment,  "  I  verily  believe  it's  a  Baby  wrapt  in  blue 
silk,  and  coming,  in  all  the  storm,  to  be  baptized  ! " 

Before  her  mamma  could  interfere,  Nan  had 
run  up  to  the  group,  her  whole  face  aglow,  her 
eyes  beaming  with  sympathy  behind  those  gold- 
bowed  spectacles. 

"Bambino  ?  "  she  was  saying  eagerly.    "  A — h  !  " 

Such  an  expressive  "A  —  h!"  those  simple- 
hearted  Romans  had  never  heard.  Never  did 
spectacles  look  more  solemn. 

"  Bambino  1  "  questioned  Nan. 

"Bambino!"  said  one  of  the  women,  lifting  a 
corner  of  the  blue  silk. 

There  it  lay,  that  eight-days-old  baby,  looking  as 
clean  and  as  comfortable  as  any  baby  in  the 
world. 

The  heavy,  leathern  portiere,  which  serves  for  a 


72  NAN'S  BAMBINO. 

door,  was  pushed  aside,  and  the  party  entered  the 
great  church.  Eager  Nan  followed  on  its  heels. 

In  the  first  side  chapel  on  the  left  stands  the 
enormous  font.  Its  heavy,  brazen  top  had  been 
removed.  Toward  this  chapel  the  baby  was  car 
ried.  Nan  again  approached.  This  time  she  held 
out  her  arms. 

"Bambino!"  she  repeated  imploringly,  and,  sud 
denly,  to  her  surprise,  greatly  to  her  delight,  she 
found  herself  holding  that  droll  little  baby.  It 
was  as  stiff  as  a  stick  of  wood,  for,  like  many 
Italian  babies,  it  was  swathed  tightly.  Not  a  foot 
could  this  bambino  move.  Nan's  eyes  winked  hard, 
partly  with  pleasure,  partly  with  embarrassment. 
A  tall  priest,  clad  in  gold-embroidered  vestments, 
stood  waiting  at  the  font.  One  of  the  women 
attempted  to  take  the  baby.  "A  —  h  ! "  pleaded 
Nan  again. 

The  woman  showed  two  rows  of  white  teeth, 
and,  almost  before  she  knew  it,  Nan  found  her 
self-  assisting  at  the  baptism,  in  the  capacity  of 
nurse. 

Not  a  word  of  the  Latin  service,  excepting  the 


NAN'S  BAMBINO.  73 

"  Amens,"  could  she  understand,  but  she  was 
keenly  alive  to  her  duties,  and  followed  the  guid 
ance  of  the  woman  on  her  left. 

The  priest  breathed  on  the  baby;  put  salt  on 
its  little  red  tongue ;  touched  its  breast  and  back 
with  oil ;  and  then  Nan,  according  to  direction, 
held  her  little  stiff  burden  out,  at  right  angles  to 
her  own  body,  with  its  head  over  the  font,  while 
the  water  was  poured  on  its  black  hair. 

How  it  came  to  pass  that  she  was  allowed  to  do 
all  this,  I  do  not  know.  I  can  only  tell  you  that 
no  one  made  any  objection.  The  gentle  women 
smiled  on  her.  The  young  father  of  the  baby 
seemed  quite  flattered  by  the  attention. 

After  all  was  over,  Nan  tried  a  few  words  in 
Italian.  "Americana"  she  said,  pointing  to  herself. 

The  women  nodded. 

"  La  Madre — Amore"  —  Nan  went  on. 

A  puzzled  look  came  into  the  young  father's 
eyes,  but  it  gradually  dawned  on  him  that  this  ex 
traordinary  little  individual  was  trying  to  send  her 
love  to  the  baby's  mother. 

They  all  shook  hands  in  the  kindest  fashion. 


74  NAN'S  BAMBINO. 

If  the  women  looked  strange  to  Nan,  in  their  coral 
necklaces,  big  gold  ear-rings  and  striped  aprons, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  she  impressed  them  quite 
as  much.  But  hearty  good-will  lay  at  the  bottom 
of  all  their  sentiments.  "  Grazie  "  they  murmured. 

And  "Grazie!  Thank  you  ever  so  much! 
Grazie!"  said  Nan. 

"Weren't  they  —  oh!  weren't  they  good  to  let 
me  hold  the  bambino  ?  "  she  cried  to  her  mother, 
who  had  stood  near,  watching  the  whole  affair. 

Nan  never  saw  those  people  again ;  but  she 
often  wonders  how  that  Italian  baby  is  getting 
along,  and  she  says,  "  I  rather  think  I'm  the  first 
American  girl  who  ever  played  *  Nurse  '  in  St. 
Peter's,  Rome." 


IN  THE  LINE  OF  THE  EARTH 
QUAKE. 

IT  had  been  the  quietest  night  possible.  Not  a 
breath  of  air  stirred  among  the  gray-green 
olives  of  the  hills.  The  Mediterranean  lay  like  a 
steel-blue  mirror  spread  out  for  the  stars  to  look 
down  on.  All  the  world  was  still  asleep,  dreaming, 
if  at  all,  of  that  gay  Carnival  time  which  had  but 
just  ended,  and  whose  fantastic,  unreasoning  mirth- 
making  might  well  pursue  one  into  the  droll  land 
of  dreams,  when  suddenly  through  the  dusky  still 
ness  of  the  early  morning  there  came  a  sound  like 
the  booming  of  a  distant  battlefield,  or  the  break 
ing  of  an  angry  surf  upon  a  long  line  of  shore, 
accompanied  by  a  trembling  and  jarring  and 
rumbling  of  the  whole  earth,  as  when  a  mighty 
train  thunders  past  some  tiny  wayside  station. 
And  then  all  in  a  moment,  before  I  had  time  to 

75 


76      IN  THE  LINE  OF  THE  EARTHQUAKE. 

question  what  it  meant,  our  house  began  to  rock 
violently  to  and  fro,  as  if  some  great  monster  of 
the  world  below  had  seized  upon  it  in  his  hand 
and  was  shaking  it  as  a  terrier  shakes  a  rat.  I 
sprang  up  in  bed  in  horror,  almost  suffocated  by 
the  plaster  dust  in  the  air,  while  the  war  of  the 
earthquake  was  drowned  in  the  noise  of  shivering 
china  and  failing  furniture,  of  straining,  breaking 
timbers,  and  of  tottering  partitions  that  groaned  like 
human  things  in  agony  as  the  walls  were  wrenched 
asunder.  It  was  like  looking  on  at  what  one 
imagines  the  end  of  the  world  might  be  —  a  sud 
den  awful  instant  of  unheralded  and  overwhelming 
destruction. 

The  first  shock,  from  beginning  to  end,  lasted 
less  than  fifty  seconds,  when  all  was  still  again  ; 
but  in  a  few  moments  more,  before  I  could  free 
myself  from  the  entanglement  of  bent  rods  and 
fallen  curtains  and  masses  of  solid  plaster  (which, 
but  for  those  same  iron  rods,  bent  over  me  like 
protecting  arms,  would  indubitably  have  killed  me 
on  the  spot),  there  came  a  second  shock,  shorter 
and  far  less  severe  than  the  first,  but  alarming 


IN    THE    LINE    OF    THE    EARTHQUAKE.  77 

enough  even  so,  as  we  stood  with  the  hanging  walls 
and  loose  boards  shaking  and  rattling  around  us 
like  the  flapping  sails  and  creaking  cordage  of  a 
ship  in  the  midst  of  a  gale. 

Fortunately  our  stairway  was  still  standing,  for 
one's  best  chance  of  safety  at  such  a  time  lies  in 
escaping  between  the  shocks  to  some  open  space 
out  of  reach  of  the  falling  buildings  ;  and  seizing 
whatever  lay  nearest  to  hand,  we  rushed  down  and 
out  to  a  public  garden,  where  we  found  a  crowd  of 
panic-stricken  fugitives  like  ourselves,  in  every 
variety  of  scanty  costumes,  roughly  cloaked  in 
rugs  and  blankets  snatched  up  in  mad  haste  as  they 
fled,  and  all  with  faces  unforgettably  white  and 
ghastly  and  full  of  that  nameles  dread  of  those 
who  have  looked  Death  close  in  the  face  and  have 
caught  glimpses  of  things  unutterable. 

At  first  we  sat  or  stood  about  in  groups,  awed 
into  utter  speechlessness.  All  sorts  of  odd  things 
happened,  but  at  the  time  nothing  struck  us  as 
either  ludicrous  or  surprising.  One  invalid,  who 
had  not  walked  for  years,  under  the  fright  of  the 
earthquake  ran  in  her  nightdress  and  bare  feet 


78  IN    THE    LINE   OF    THE    EARTHQUAKE. 

from  her  hotel  to  our  garden,  which  was  some 
squares  away,  and  the  same  curious  unaccountable 
recovery  of  lost  powers  was  reported  of  several 
paralytics  who  were  instantaneously  cured  by  the 
shock.  By  degrees  however,  as  all  continued 
quiet,  confidence  returned  ;  the  more  venturesome 
made  daring  raids  back  into  the  houses  to  save 
what  they  could  from  the  general  wreckage ; 
tongues  were  loosened,  and  strangers  and  friends 
talked  indiscriminately,  exchanging  their  various 
experiences  and  retailing  many  hairbreath  escapes 
as  miraculous  as  my  own  ;  and  some  broke  down 
completely  and  sobbed  hysterically,  and  others 
tried  to  laugh  and  make  a  joke  of  it,  not  realizing 
that  their  jesting  seemed  as  out  of  place  as  merri 
ment  in  a  graveyard,  while  a  child  and  a  little  dog 
with  alert  brown  ears  and  bright  eyes  gleaming 
with  frolic  —  the  only  two  uncomprehending  happy 
beings  among  us  all  —  struck  up  an  intimate 
friendship,  and  made  sport  with  each  other  in  and 
out  between  the  frightened  people,  and  played  bo- 
peep  over  the  heaps  of  reserved  household  belong 
ings  flung  in  motley  piles  upon  the  gravel,  and 


IN    THE    LINE    OF    THE    EARTHQUAKE.  79 

were  hungry  and  ate  biscuits  with  undisturbed, 
every-day  appetites. 

So  time  wore  by  in  wretched  suspense,  till  three 
hours  later  a  third  shock  came,  which  paralyzed 
laughter  and  sobs  alike  on  the  instant,  and  drove 
back  the  blood  from  every  face,  and  many  rushed 
screaming  into  each  other's  arms  and  frantically 
embraced,  thinking  to  die  together.  It  was  horrible 
to  look  up  through  the  .clear  bright  sunlight  and 
see  the  houses  swaying  and  staggering  like  drunken 
things,  and  hear  the  deep,  hoarse,  sullen,  subter 
ranean  growl,  and  the  sound  of  crashing  and  rend- 
irig  and  breaking  on  every  side,  followed  by  such 
a  cry  sent  up  from  a  whole  cityful  of  terrified  peo 
ple  as  surely  one  never  hears  but  once.  And  then 
came  silence  again,  a  silence  almost  worse  than 
any  sound,  for  in  it  one  heard  one's  own  heart 
beat  and  felt  fear  turning  to  ice  in  one's  veins.  For 
of  all  the  dread  sensations  of  an  earthquake,  the 
worst  is  the  feeling  of  indescribable  horror  which 
possesses  one  from  head  to  foot,  and  which  is 
neither  excitement  nor  despair  nor  alarm,  nor  like 
anything  one  has  ever  known  before.  Only  those 


82  IN    THE    LINE    OF    THE    EARTHQUAKE. 

who  have  felt  it  can  comprehend  it ;  it  is  the  ex 
perience  of  a  lifetime,  bought  in  one  single  awful 
unearthly  moment. 

That  third  shock  was  the  last  of  any  severity, 
but  lesser  ones  continued  at  intervals  all  the  day 
and  night  following,  and  indeed  for  long  there 
after.  Scarcely  anybody  was  brave  enough  when 
night  came  to  venture  again  indoors.  Some  of  our 
friends  slept  in  the  open  gardens  on  benches  or 
on  mattresses  spread  upon  the  trembling  ground ; 
some  slept  in  tents;  some  in  the  tiny  bathing 
houses  along  the  beach,  and  some,  like  gypsies, 
camped  out  in  their  own  carriages.  We  were 
offered  shelter  by  a  friend  whose  villa,  being  at 
the  east  end  of  the  town,  was  one  of  the  few  that 
had  escaped  injury,  and  there  we  all  slept  in  the 
drawing-rooms  on  the  ground  floor,  dressed  and 
ready  to  rush  into  the  garden  at  the  first  threaten 
ing  of  danger. 

Our  drive  through  the  town  to  reach  this  villa, 
was  like  passing  through  some  city  of  the  dead. 
The  deserted  streets  were  blocked  with  de'bris 
from  the  mutilated,  desolate,  uninhabited  and  un- 


IN    THE    LINE    OF    THE    EARTHQUAKE.  83 

habitable  houses.  Here  a  wall  was  cracked  open 
from  top  to  botton  ;  here  cracked  and  seamed  and 
blistered  all  over  like  a  plate  exposed  to  too  great 
heat ,  here  the  whole  front  of  a  house  had  fallen 
out,  and  there  a  tower  had  come  crashing  down  to 
the  ground.  Not  a  roof  but  had  lost  tiles  and 
chimneys  at  least.  Balustrades  and  balconies  had 
given  way  on  all  sides.  Windows  were  set  awry. 
,  Shutters  and  doors  hung  flapping  on  broken 
hinges  like  helpless  signals  of  distress.  Great 
stones  were  twisted  completely  around  as  if  they 
had  spun  like  tops  in  their  places,  and  plaster  lay 
ash-like  over  everything,  leaving  great  unsightly 
scar-like  spots  to  mark  from  where  it  fell.  It 
seemed  an  almost  incredible  transformation  of  the 
place.  One  felt  as  if  the  years  had  suddenly 
slipped  back  into  the  by-gone  ages,  and  as  if  one 
were  part  and  parcel  oneself  of  some  as  yet  un- 
historied  Herculaneum  or  Pompeii. 

Thousands  and  thousands  of  people  fled  North 
ward  that  morning  from  all  along  the  Riviera, 
many  of  them  leaving  bag  and  baggage  behind 
them,  for  it  is  marvellous  how  quickly  even  one's 


84  IN    THE    LINE    OF    THE    EARTHQUAKE. 

dearest  possessions  lose  all  value  the  moment 
life  is  in  peril Six  weeks  since  that  ter 
rible  twenty-third  of  February,  eighteen  hundred 
and  eighty-seven.  Even  the  most  timid  and  most 
unnerved  have  regained  their  courage  and  their  lost 
spirits.  Those  whose  houses  were  spared  returned 
long  since  even  into  the  upper  storeys.  The  shops 
are  reopened,  and  masons  and  bricklayers  and  car 
penters  are  everywhere  at  work,  repairing  where 
repair  is  possible,  and  cheerily  rebuilding  where 
they  must.  The  sentinels  who  forbade  entrance 
at  doors  of  condemned  houses,  and  the  soldiers 
who  stood  guard  over  streets  unsafe  for  public 
traffic,  have  withdrawn  their  prohibitions  and 
disappeared.  Mentone  will  soon  again  wear  its 
bright  and  smiling  face  of  old.  Yet  while  we  live, 
none  of  us  who  were  in  the  line  of  the  earthquake, 
can  ever  forget  that  dim  gray  Ash  Wednesday 
morning  when  we  awoke  so  suddenly  out  of  our 
Carnival  dreams  to  find  ourselves  in  sackcloth 
and  ashes  indeed,  and  with  the  Miserere  stifled 
upon  our  lips. 


A   CATSKILL    BEAR   STORY. 

BEARS  in  the  Catskills  ? " 
Well,  there  certainly  are  none  prowling 
about  the  Overlook  Mountain  House,  nor  the 
Hotel  Kaaterskill,  nor  even  in  the  vicinity  of  that 
romantic  crag  called  Rip  Van  Winkle's  Rock. 
In  fact,  during  the  week's  ramble  which  we  took 
—  my  friend  and  I  —  among  the  back  woods  and 
glens  of  Slide  Mountain  and  the  Indian  Head, 
we  failed  to  discover  traces  of  either  bear  or  wild 
cat. 

To  say  that  we  saw  "neither  hide  nor  hair"  of 
them,  as  the  phrase  is,  would  not  be  true.  There 
is  a  great,  tawny,  glass-eyed,  stuffed  wildcat  at 
Meade's,  on  the  Overlook ;  and  in  a  farmer's  house 
at  Big  Indian  we  saw  a  black  bear's  skin,  the 
original  wearer  of  which  had  been  killed  by  the 
present  owner,  only  a  few  winters  ago. 

85 


86  A    CATSKILL    BEAR    STORY. 

But  we  found  bear-stories  —  plenty  of  them. 
Whenever  we  met  a  native  or  old  settler  of  the 
region,  we  straightway  asked  him  for  a  bear-story ; 
and  he  seldom  disappointed  us.  We  soon  had 
quite  a  collection,  the  gem  of  which  is  the  one  I 
am  going  to  tell  you  now.  It  has  never  before 
been  told  in  print,  I  am  sure ;  for  we  had  it  from 
the  lips  of  the  hero  himself  —  an  Italian  laborer 
who,  having  originally  come  into  the  Catskills  to 
work  on  one  of  the  railroads,  had  finally  made 
his  home  there. 

Seated  on  a  raft  at  the  edge  of  the  pond  where 
we  were  fishing,  he  related  his  story  in  broken 
English,  which  I  will  endeavor  to  mend  —  not  in 
the  hope  of  making  it  funnier,  but  simply  to  ren 
der  it  more  intelligible. 

His  name  was  Nanni  (short  for  Giovanni)  Rocco. 
It  seems  that  in  Italy,  where  Nanni  was  born  and 
grew  up,  he  had  been  a  kind  of  showman.  He 
used  to  travel  among  the  Apennine  villages  with 
a  performing  bear,  which  he  had  taught  to  wres 
tle  so  skillfully  that  the  huge  animal,  tightly  muz 
zled  and  with  claws  blunted,  would  "throw"  all 


A   CATSKILL    BEAR   STORY.  87 

comers  who  ventured  to  measure  their  strength 
with  him.  Then  his  master  would  try  a  bout, 
and  always  come  off  victorious  ;  but  this  was  due 
to  a  secret  understanding  with  the  bear,  who,  at 
a  given  signal,  would  fall  to  the  ground  and  pre 
tend  to  be  overcome.  This  was  done  so  naturally 
and  so  regularly,  that  after  a  while  Nanni  came 
to  believe  himself  really  more  than  a  match  for 
the  beast ;  and  the  faithful  creature  never  unde 
ceived  him. 

The  fame  of  Nanni  and  his  wrestling  bear 
spread  far  and  wide.  One  day  an  agent  came 
along  and  engaged  him  for  a  foreign  tour,  to  ex 
tend  as  far  as  America.  This  began  very  suc 
cessfully  ;  and  no  doubt  Nanni  would  have  made 
his  fortune  in  America,  had  not  his  indispensable 
partner,  the  bear,  sickened  and  died  shortly  after 
their  arrival  in  New  York. 

His  master  mourned  him  like  a  child.  Such 
another  animal  was  not  to  be  found  for  love  or 
money,  and  poor  Nanni's  occupation  was  gone. 
Disheartened  and  without  resources,  he  finally 
engaged  himself  with  a  number  of  his  fellow-coun- 


88  A    CATSKILL    BEAR    STORY. 

trymen,  to  work  on  the  railroads.  This  employ 
ment,  in  the  course  of  time,  brought  him  to  the 
Catskill  Mountains. 

When  the  line  of  the  Ulster  and  Delaware  Rail 
road  was  first  surveyed,  the  region  through  which 
it  passes  had  much  more  the  air  of  a  forest  pri 
meval  than  it  possesses  to-day.  The  principal  "  old 
settlers"  then  were  the  bears  and  panthers  and 
wildcats,  with  here  and  there  a  rattlesnake. 
There  was  good  sport  in  the  mountains,  at  that 
period. 

One  day  a  good-sized  bear,  closely  pursued  by 
two  hunters,  came  tearing  through  the  underbrush, 
close  by  the  place  where  Nanni  and  his  companions 
were  at  work.  It  was  a  wild  spot,  overlooking 
that  stupendous  ravine  where  the  snowy  veil  of 
the  Kaaterskill  Falls  hangs  gracefully  down  the 
black  wall  of  wet  rocks. 

"  Head  him  off !  "  cried  the  hunters. 

But  the  Italian  laborers  were  too  frightened  to 
dispute  the  passage  of  the  panting  animal.  The 
mere  sight  of  them,  however,  caused  him  to  slacken 
his  pace  and  look  about  him,  his  red  tongue  hang- 


ON    THE    EDGE   OF   THE    PRECIPICE. 


A    CATSKILL    BEAR    STORY.  9! 

ing  out  of  his  open  mouth,  and  his  mischievous 
little  eyes  flashing  with  rage  and  defiance. 

Before  him  were  the  Italians,  behind  him  the 
hunters.  On  one  side  was  the  precipice,  and  op 
posite  stood  Nanni  —  and  he  was  not  the  man  to 
run  away. 

If  he  trembled,  it  was  from  excitement  and 
emotion — not  from  fear.  The  sight  of  the  free, 
full-grown  bear  at  bay,  and  rearing  threateningly 
upon  his  hind-legs,  caused  a  flood  of  recollections 
to  rush  through  Nanni's  mind.  Inspired  by  the 
thought  of  his  triumphant  wrestling  days,  he  had 
but  one  idea,  and  that  was  to  get  a  good  "  side 
hold  "  of  the  bear,  throw  him  on  his  back,  and 
capture  him. 

"  Stop-a !  stop-a  !  "  he  screamed,  motioning  back 
the  hunters,  who  had  raised  their  guns  to  fire. 
"  I'll  catch-a  him  for  you  !  " 

To  the  speechless  amazement  of  his  comrades, 
he  rushed  forward  and  grappled  with  the  infu 
riated  bear,  throwing  one  arm  around  the  plump, 
hairy  body,  and  with  the  other  hand  clutching  the 
shaggy  throat. 


92  A    CATSKILL    BEAR    STORY. 

The  struggle  was  terrific  while  it  lasted,  and  by 
no  means  one-sided.  Bruin  snapped  with  his  jaws, 
and  slapped  out  wildly  with  his  huge  paws,  tear 
ing  great  strips  from  Nanni's  clothing  at  each 
blow.  He  did  not  seem  to  be  at  all  particular 
whether  bits  of  Nanpi's  skin  and  flesh  came  with 
the  cloth  or  not.  Then  the  two  fell,  and  rolled  in 
the  dust.  The  spectators  cried  : 

"  They'll  go  over,  as  sure  as  —  " 

Before  the  sentence  was  out  of  their  mouths, 
crash !  went  man  and  bear  over  the  precipice 
together.  The  others  heard  the  crackling  of 
branches  as  they  fell  and  were  lost  to  sight  in  the 
dense  foliage  that  clothed  the  mountain-side. 

Horror-stricken,  the  men  scrambled  down  the 
rocks  as  best  they  could  by  roundabout  ways,  to 
pick  up  poor  Nanni's  mangled  body. 

Mangled  indeed  he  was,  when  they  found  him, 
but  not  killed.  He  and  the  bear  had  providen 
tially  tumbled  into  a  thicket  of  huckleberry-bushes 
on  a  ledge  half-way  down  the  ravine.  Bruin  had 
made  off,  leaving  Nanni  stunned,  bleeding,  and 
highly  indignant. 


A    CATSKILL    BEAR    STORY.  93 

"Dat-a  bear  no  good-a,"  he  said,  in  a  feeble  but 
protesting  tone,  to  his  rescuers.  "  He' not  know-a 
how  to  wrestle.  He  not  wrestle  fair  !  " 

This  is  not  a  fable,  but  it  has  a  moral :  Don't 
expect  good  behavior  from  others,  according  to 
your  own  ideas  of  proper  conduct,  when  you  pay 
no  regard  to  theirs. 


Margaret  Sidney's  Illustrated  Quartos. 


Golden  West  as  Seen  by  the  Ridgway  Club. 

4to,  cloth,  2.25;  boards,  1.75. 

A  pictorial  and  talkative  run  from  Boston  to 
Monterey  for  health  and  pleasure  and  information. 
And  what  the  jolly  party  sees  from  the  car  windows 
is  only  part  of  the  treat. 


What   the    Seven    Did,   or    the    Doings   of  the 

Wordsworth  Club. 

i 

4to,  cloth,  2.25;  boards,  1.75. 

The  seven  are  little  girl  neighbors,  the  Words 
worth  Club,  which  met  once  a  week  at  their  several 
homes  to  have  a  good  time.  Those  good  times  are 
the  book.  The  best  of  them  had  to  do  with  the 
fathers  and  mothers  and  Widow  Barker's  cow. 


Who  Told  it  to  Me. 

Square  8vo,  boards,  1.25;  cloth  1.75. 

Neighbor  boys  and  girls  growing  up  together, 
having  their  ins  and  outs,  and  ups  and  downs ;  and 
the  old  folks  had  their  share  in  the  y«ung  folks' 
doings,  as  they  ought.  It  was  a  jolly  Pengannop. 
They  did  grow  good  men  and  women  those  days  in 
New  England. 

Polly  and  the  Children. 

4to,  boards,  50  cents. 

The   parrot   has   surprising   adventures   at   the 
children's  party  and  wears  a  medal  after  the  fire. 
28 


Family  Flight  Series. 

By  E.  E.  HALE  and  SUSAN  HALE, 
8vo,  boards,  each,  1.75  ;  cloth,  2.25. 

Book  journeys  through  the  several  countries 
with  eyes  and  ears  wide  open,  old  eyes  and  young 
eyes  and  ears.  The  books  are  full  of  pictures,  and 
fuller  of  knowledge  not  only  of  what  is  going  on 
but  what  has  gone  on  ever  since  book-making  began, 
and  fuller  yet  of  brightness  and  interest.  You  see 
the  old  as  old ;  but  you  see  it ;  you  see  where  it  was 
and  the  marks  it  left.  You  see  the  new  with  eyes 
made  sharper  by  knowledge  of  what  has  gone  in 
the  world. 

In  other  words  these  books  amount  to  some 
thing  like  going  through  these  places  with  a  travel 
ing  companion  who  knows  all  about  them  and  their 
histories. 

They  are  written  and  pictured  for  boys  and  girls  -, 
but  there  is  nothing  to  hinder  the  old  folks  going 

along.     Will  you  go  ? 

FAMILY  FLIGHT  AROUND  HOME. 

FAMILY  FLIGHT  OVER  EGYPT  AND  SYRIA. 

FAMILY   FLIGHT  THROUGH  FRANCE,  GERMANY, 
NORWAY  AND  SWITZERLAND. 

FAMILY  FLIGHT  THROUGH  MEXICO. 

FAMILY  FLIGHT  THROUGH  SPAIN. 

One  of  the  most  effective  means  of  exciting  and 

satisfying  zeal  for  knowledge  of  the  world  we  have 

in  books. 


All    Among   the    Lighthouses,    or   the 
Cruise  of  the  Goldenrod. 

By  MARY  BRADFORD  CROWNINSHIELD. 
8vo,  illustrated,  cloth,  2.50. 

Two  boys  and  a  girl  accompany  a  government 
lighthouse  inspector  on  his  tour  along  the  coast  of 
Maine  in  the  Steamship  Goldenrod.  They  not 
only  have  the  journey  and  see  that  remarkable 
coast ;  they  have  the  lighthouse  system  explained 
with  pictures  and  maps.  A  promising  trip;  and 
the  book  does  it  justice.  Every  inch  of  the  way 
has  its  fill  of  delightful  instruction. 

The  Ignoramuses. 

By  MARY  BRADFORD  CROWNINSHIELD, 
Svo,  illustrated,  cloth,  2.50. 

The  same  go  to  Europe.  They  not  only  had  a 
good  time  themselves  on  the  Goldenrod,  but  made 
a  most  entertaining  book.  '  So  they  go  abroad  for 
another.  As  before  they  go  to  learn ;  and,  while 
they  are  about  it,  here's  another  book  as  good  as 
the  Lighthouse  Cruise. 

Dame  Heraldry. 

By  F.  S.  W.  Illustrated  by  nine  pages 
of  colored  plates  and  numerous  engrav 
ings.  Svo,  cloth,  2.50. 

The  writer,  his  children  having  an  interest  in 
heraldry,  set  himself  at  the  task  of  telling  them 
what  he  knew  of  it.  Hence  the  book;  which 
treats  the  whole  subject  formally,  yet  with  a  pleas 
ant  vacation  air. 


Storied  Holidays. 

By  ELBRIDGE  S.  BROOKS,  author  of  The 
American  Indian,  In  Leisler's  Times,  In 
No-Man's  Land,  and  others.  i2mo,  cloth, 

$1.50. 

An  historic  tale  connected  with  a  holi 
day  in  every  month  of  the  year. 

There  is  the  snapdragon  Christmas  quar 
rel  of  James  I.  of  England  with  his  sons 
about  the  release  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh ;  a 
New  Year's  meeting  of  Margery  More  with 
Henry  VIII ;  how  William  Penn  got  his 
motto  "  Be  true,  be  leal,  be  constant,"  on 
St.  Valentine's  Day ;  how  the  Earl  of  Kil- 
dare  kept  St.  Patrick's  ;  the  wise  men  of 
Gotham  fool  King  John  on  the  first  of 
April  ;  and  so  on  through  the  months. 

These  stories  out  of  history  practise  one 
in  the  times  they  take  him  back  to. 

A  Midshipman  at  Large. 

By  CHARLES  R.  TALBOT.      i2mo,  cloth, 

$1.50. 

An  escapade  of  a  bright  young  fellow 
who  "  shipped  "  for  a  yacthing  cruise  in 
vacation. 

The  story  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
question  whether  it  pays  to  know  one's 
work  and  do  it  and  "  be,"  as  the  phrase 
goes,  "  a  gentleman  "  ;  but,  if  the  reader 
chooses  to  think  of  them,  he  will  find 
plenty  of  stimulant. 


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